Dead Ringers

 

(1988) Directed by David Cronenberg; Written by David Cronenberg and Norman Snider; Based on the novel, Twins, by Bari Wood and Jack Geasland; Starring: Jeremy Irons, Geneviève Bujold, Heidi von Palleske, Barbara Gordon and Stephen Lack; Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Rating: ****

“When was the last time a gynaecologist was in a movie, even as a figure of fun? There’s something taboo there, something strange and difficult. A lot of people say, ‘I suppose women find this movie much harder to take.’ The answer is, ‘Not really.’ For a lot of women, the opening scene of gynaecological examination is no big deal. Later on, when it gets weird, of course it’s uncomfortable. But, for a lot of men, that very first scene is the worst. They’ve never been there; they’ve never seen it; they don’t want to think about it.” – David Cronenberg (excerpted from his book, Cronenberg on Cronenberg)

Twins (especially identical twins) share an uncanny bond that few of us non-twins can fully comprehend. To the outside observer, their relationship seems almost supernatural, including thinking the same thoughts to sharing similar tastes or sensations. Considering David Cronenberg’s predilection toward themes of duality, it’s easy to see why a film featuring twins as the primary characters would be an appealing subject. Dead Ringers is not as readily classifiable as some of his earlier films, neither horror nor science fiction, but adjacent to both. The film was inspired by the real-life story of Cyril and Stewart Marcus, twin gynecologists*/** who were discovered dead in Cyril’s New York City apartment in 1975. Their real-life tragedy, in turn, inspired Bari Wood and Jack Geasland’s fictional account, Twins. For his rewrite of the script, Cronenberg was strongly influenced by the real Marcus twins, as well as the 1976 Esquire article “Dead Ringers,” about their strange and morbid tale. Getting the film made was a 10-year uphill battle with Cronenberg facing squeamish executives who were on board with the idea of twins, but protesting, “Why do they have to be gynecologists?” Considering Cronenberg’s inherent fascination with permutations of the flesh and sexual politics, depicting his twins in some other random occupation was out of the question.   

* Fun Fact #1: Although Cyril and Stewart were twins, unlike their fictional counterparts in the film, they were not identical. Because they looked very similar and dressed alike, the misconception was perpetuated. This carried over to their practice, in which one would sometimes pretend to be the other to fool patients.  

The opening scene depicts young Elliot and Beverly Mantle trying to recruit a neighbor girl for their “experiment” in reproduction (their proposal goes over about as well as you would expect). The scene establishes their attitude on the otherness of female anatomy and their clinical approach to something that is more than a simple biological function. Flash forward to the twins in medical school, when much to the chagrin of their professor, the twins are using a medical instrument created by Beverly (which would later become the so-called “Mantle Retractor”)* to examine a cadaver (their instructor comments that it would never work on a living patient). The story moves to the present day, in which Elliot and Beverly share a thriving practice, as well as an apartment. Their tendency to share carries over to sexual partners, which backfires when a patient, Claire Niveau (Geneviève Bujold),** enters their lives (Beverly is especially drawn to her when he discovers that she possesses a rare anatomical abnormality). When she becomes wise to their deception, it unleashes a chain of events that contribute to their downfall. While Beverly slips into a self-destructive spiral of prescription drugs and paranoid delusions, Elliot isn’t too far behind. 

* Fun Fact #2: The Mantle Retractor is based on a real gynecological instrument invented in Toronto, Canada by Dr. Donald Balfour (the “Balfour Retractor”). 

** You can bet that Cronenberg will invariably have one of his characters make an off-the-wall proclamation, and Dead Ringers doesn’t disappoint, when Beverly muses that instead of the usual beauty pageants that focus on the outside, there should be a pageant for beautiful insides (“Best Spleen,” anyone?).   

To help create the illusion that Irons was two separate individuals,* Cronenberg and crew went beyond traditional split-screen effects. Film Effects of Toronto employed an “invisible traveling soft split-screen,” which allowed Irons to move around the frame, with no visible split. The crew also employed a motion-control camera for some scenes, so Irons could act out a scene as one twin and retrace his steps as the second twin. 

* Fun Fact #3: There are approximately 14 shots where the twins appear together.

The greatest special effect in the film, however, lies in Jeremy Irons’ masterful, nuanced performance, as Elliot and Beverly Mantle. Irons achieves nearly the impossible, convincing us there are two separate, flesh-and-blood individuals. Irons doesn’t fall on the familiar good/evil tropes for his depiction of the twins. The differences are more subtle, but they’re there. Elliot, the dominant twin, is outgoing and forthright, whereas Beverly is shy, introspective, and emotionally sensitive. Elliot loves to clamor for attention, teaching and promoting his profession, while Beverly prefers to stay out of the limelight, content to work in the research aspect. Despite their differences, they have more aspects in common, suggesting a symbiotic relationship. They are bound to one another to the point, when push comes to shove, the fear of separation is palpable. Beverly illustrates their unique connection when he discusses the strange case of so-called “Siamese twins” Chang and Eng with his brother (when one died, the other subsequently died from fright over the loss of his sibling).  

A rift between the twins develops when Beverly becomes emotionally entangled with Claire. Compared to the twins’ warped attitude on relationships, Claire brings a well-grounded perspective. Her reaction to being passed around by the two brothers without her consent or knowledge, like community property, is a horrifying proposition. When she calls them on their subterfuge, she uncovers (perhaps for the first time) how dysfunctional their behavior has been. Unlike most people that encounter the Mantles, she can discern between the two, and her preference for Beverly is clear.

Beverly’s deteriorating mental state is most disturbingly illustrated in a scene when he tries using his retractor on one of his regular patients. As established in an earlier scene she trusts him implicitly, which only makes his betrayal of that trust more painful. Her resulting discomfort is ignored by Beverly, who argues there’s nothing wrong with his instrument, effectively shutting her down. When he silences her objections, it lays bare the blind trust many patients have with their doctors, but most telling is the skewed power dynamic between the male doctor and female patient. When questioned by his brother, Beverly responds, “The woman’s body was all wrong.” Instead of ruminating on his trespasses, the incident only prompts him to commission a metal-working artist (Stephen Lack) to create stainless steel instruments of his own design, for “operating on mutant women”

David Cronenberg infuses a level of unreality into Dead Ringers, revealing the Mantles’ twisted world. One of the most striking visual embellishments are the crimson surgical garments by costume designer Denise Cronenberg. Rather than being neutral or calming, they invoke quite the opposite effect. The colorful yet unsettling surgical gowns contrast sharply with the Mantles’ apartment, with its sterile, slate-gray walls and spartan furnishings. Another example is the nightmare sequence: we focus on Claire until the camera pans over to reveal she’s in bed with Elliot and Beverly, who are joined by a pulsing conduit of flesh. But perhaps Cronenberg’s icing on this fetid cake are Beverly’s instruments (based on designs by Cronenberg, of course), which resemble alien torture devices (You don’t have to be a gynecologist to understand these were never intended for human beings). Frequent Cronenberg collaborator Howard Shore’s melancholic score is another key component in Dead Ringers, matching the intensity and sadness of the tale at hand. 

* Fun Fact: Cronenberg had filmed a second nightmare sequence, featuring a scrawny, parasitic Elliot emerging from Beverly. He decided to cut the scene after test screenings, because he felt it took the audience out of the film.

 

Duality is a theme that David Cronenberg has returned to repeatedly, not because he likes to beat his audience over the head with a tired old theme, but because he has so much to say about it. From Shivers to A History of Violence, the idea of dual lives is a common thread throughout Cronenberg’s filmography, and Dead Ringers is among his most cohesive works. It’s a compelling character study of a complicated and ultimately self-destructive relationship, made credible by Jeremy Irons’ never-less-than engaging double performance.

 

Sources for this article: Shout Factory Blu-ray commentary by William Beard; Cronenberg on Cronenberg, by David Cronenberg; David Cronenberg: Interviews, Edited by David Schwartz; “Dead Ringers: A Bizarre Case of the Death of Twins,” by Ron Rosenbaum and Susan Edmiston, Esquire (March 1, 1976); “Visuals for Dead Ringers Inspire Belief,” by Nora Lee, American Cinematographer (December 1988); “Our Surgical Heritage: The Legends of Exposure,” by Rao R. Ivatury, Panamerican Journal of Trauma, Critical Care and Emergency Surgery (2021, Volume 10, Issue 1)  

 

The Man Who Could Cheat Death

(1959) Directed by Terence Fisher; Written by Jimmy Sangster; Based on the play The Man in Half Moon Street by Barré Lyndon; Starring: Anton Diffring, Hazel Court, Christopher Lee, Arnold Marlé, and Delphi Lawrence; Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Rating: ***½

“I must insist in saying that there are no South American versions, nor are there any Japanese versions or any other versions. This is what happens: we shoot the scenes up to the point where we say, ‘This is it; no further; this is how it should be.’ Subsequently, the complete integral version is submitted to the censors of each country, whereupon they decide what could be cut and what should be left in… There was only one scene they asked me to shoot for possible export. That was a waist nude of Hazel Court when she was posing in The Man Who Could Cheat Death.” – Terence Fisher (on shooting alternate film versions for Hammer)

 

Ever since our species have contemplated our mortality, it’s been the dream of philosophers, scientists, and the wealthy to find the secret to prolonging life. Barré Lyndon’s 1939 play The Man in Half Moon Street ran with this theme, followed by the 1944 Paramount film adaptation. Seeking to get a piece of the late ‘50s Hammer Horror pie, Paramount offered their property to the production company. Peter Cushing was offered the starring role, but when he turned it down for unknown reasons (presumably exhaustion), Hammer scrambled to find a replacement. The logical choice was Anton Diffring,* who played the role in 1957, for a one-hour segment of the British television series, Hour of Mystery (sadly, it’s presumed lost). Hammer’s version was retitled The Man Who Could Cheat Death,** with the play’s main character, John Thackeray, changed to Georges Bonnet for the latest version. 

* Fun Fact #1: The re-casting of Diffring was truly a last-minute decision, with producer Michael Carreras offering the role only five days before shooting was to begin. 

** Fun Fact #2: The film’s working title was The Man in the Rue Noire, before it became known as The Man Who Could Cheat Death.

Set in Paris, circa 1890, doctor and hobbyist sculptor Georges Bonnet (Anton Diffring) has set up his practice in a new place (curiously, we never see him practicing medicine or treating a single patient). Just as he’s about to retire his latest model/muse Margo Philippe (Delphi Lawrence), an old flame from his days in Italy, Janine Du Bois (Hazel Court), walks back into his life. When Janine agrees to pose for Bonnet’s unfinished project, a nude bust, their passion is reignited – much to the disdain of her current boyfriend, Dr. Pierre Gerrard (Christopher Lee). Meanwhile, Margo, who’s less than thrilled to have been kicked to the curb, accidentally discovers Bonnet’s secret, which he’s guarded fiercely for decades: an elixir that restores his youth and vitality. As we soon learn, however, the substance only has a temporary effect, with a more permanent solution requiring more drastic measures. Bonnet eagerly awaits the arrival of his elderly colleague Dr. Weiss (Arnold Marlé),* who alone holds the secret to prolonging his life, a surgical procedure involving replacement of the parathyroid gland (which requires replacement every 10 years).** Complications ensue when the now 89-year-old Dr. Weiss (who was once 15 years Bonnet’s junior) reveals that a recent stroke has rendered him incapable of operating. Desperate to preserve his life at any cost, Bonnet is forced to find another doctor who can perform the delicate surgery. But time and his previous misdeeds (moving from place to place each preceding decade, while his models mysteriously disappear) have begun to catch up with him. 

* Fun Fact #3: Marlé, who also appeared with Diffring in the 1957 television version, reprised his role as Dr. Ludwig Weiss for the movie. 

** Fun Fact #4: Although an operation scene seems to suggest that the parathyroid gland was in Bonnet’s abdomen, the real parathyroid gland (humans generally have four) is located around the thyroid gland in the neck.

The film’s greatest strength is in the performances by a cast of exemplary actors.* While some might view Diffring’s performance as Bonnet to be cold and distant, I would argue that he sets the right tone, as someone who’s progressively lost his humanity over the years, desperate to keep his youthful visage at any cost. On the other hand, it’s a little difficult to imagine Peter Cushing occupying the same role, although I’m confident he would have done a good job with his interpretation of the character. Hazel Court is radiant as Bonnet’s muse and former lover, Janine, in what should have been her breakthrough role as a Hammer star (unfortunately, this film proved to be Diffring’s only role for Hammer, and Court’s last). Christopher Lee is underutilized as Dr. Pierre Gerrard, who seems to be there only to serve as the film’s moral compass. Arnold Marlé has a more substantial role as Dr. Weiss, who’s grown ambivalent about his relationship with his longtime friend and colleague. His tipping point is reached when he expresses his disgust to Bonnet about his flagrant disregard for the sanctity of human life. 

* Fun Fact #5: Hammer regular Michael Ripper was reportedly slated to play a scene as a morgue attendant, although it appears the scene was never shot.

Despite the fact that the film was fairly tame compared to its Hammer contemporaries The Curse of Frankenstein and Dracula (aka: Horror of Dracula), the British Board of Film Censors (BBFC) scrutinized every detail of the production, starting with Georges Bonnet’s hobby (they didn’t like the idea that the main character was a sculptor of busts, which was apparently too salacious for audiences). They also objected to the scenes when Bonnet attacked one of the characters with his toxic green hand (the accompanying sound effect was cut from the final print). The BBFC also deemed the final scene too gruesome, so the climactic sequence was truncated for the release version. Most famously, a brief shot of Hazel Court posing topless was excised from the UK and American prints but retained for the European cut (film lovers will be pleased to learn that the recent Vinegar Syndrome release restores the cut shot of Court, as well as the complete final scene).  

 

The Man Who Could Cheat Death resonates with the age-old theme of someone vainly attempting to overcome humankind’s mortal limits. With shades of The Picture of Dorian Gray (minus the painting) and Bluebeard, the film illustrates how the quest for the secret to eternal life is an ultimately selfish pursuit, neither practical nor desirable. It’s too bad it’s not regarded as highly as some other Hammer productions. It stands on its own, featuring an enduring premise, fine performances, and eye-catching color cinematography. By virtue of following The Curse of Frankenstein and Dracula, the bar was set impossibly high for this comparatively lower-key production. While the movie fails to hide its origins as a stage production, its other substantial assets are more than enough to hold our attention. With the benefit of quite a few decades behind its belt, The Man Who Could Cheat Death deserves a reassessment, based on its own merits. Although perhaps a notch below some of Hammer’s most celebrated films, it’s certainly worthy of its Hammer Horror pedigree. 

 

Sources for this article: Vinegar Syndrome Blu-ray commentary by Kim Newman and Stephen Jones; “A Hideous Concoction – Film Historian Jonathan Rigby on The Man Who Could Cheat Death” (Vinegar Syndrome featurette); The Hammer Story, by Marcus Hearn and Alan Barnes; Hammer Films: The Unsung Heroes, by Wayne Kinsey

The Hammer-Amicus Blogathon V – Final Recap

 

Well, folks, we’ve reached the end of the fifth Hammer-Amicus Blogathon. It’s hard to believe that our first Hammer-Amicus Blogathon was back in 2018, or that seven years later we’d still be hosting these events, but the call went out, and you answered. Thanks to everyone who stopped by our blogs to check out the posts, and especially to those who contributed to the blogathon. It’s a busy time for everyone, so we truly appreciate your hard work and dedication.

A big thanks is in order for Gill, who’s been my incredibly supportive co-host through five Hammer-Amicus Blogathons and eight (!) other blogathons. With this in mind, we both decided that we’ll be taking a brief hiatus from further blogathons. Rest assured that we have plenty of ideas – whether it will be in 2026 or 2027 remains to be seen, but I’m certain there will be future collaborations. Until then, I look forward to an entire year’s worth of new themes and new blog posts.

Wishing all of you (and yours) the very best in the upcoming holidays, and a happy New Year!  

 

 

In addition to today’s links, be sure to visit the Day 1, Day 2, and Day 3 Recaps.

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3 

…Now on to the latest posts:

Rebecca from Taking Up Room witnesses the Horror of Dracula (aka: Dracula) (1958). 

Eric from Diary of a Movie Maniac warns you to NeverTake Candy from a Stranger (aka: Never Take Sweets from a Stranger) (1960).  

 …And don’t hold your breath, but here comes Eric’s (from Diary of a Movie Maniac) second feature, Scream of Fear (aka: Taste of Fear) (1961). 

 

 

The Raven

 

(1935) Directed by Lew Landers; Written by David Boehm; Based on the poem, “The Raven,” by Edgar Allan Poe; Starring: Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Jeffrey Matthews, Irene Ware, and Samuel S. Hinds; Available on Blu-ray (included in The Universal Horror Collection, Volume 1) and DVD 

Rating: ***½ 

This review is part of the Secret Places and Trippy Houses Blogathon, hosted by Rebecca Deniston from Taking Up Room. Many thanks to Rebecca for making this event a reality! The following review illustrates that wherever Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff go, dark, hidden laboratories follow…

“Death is my talisman, Mr. Chapman. The one indestructible force, the one certain thing in an uncertain universe. Death!” – Dr. Richard Volling (Bela Lugosi)

“You can’t make people believe in you if you’re playing a horror part with your tongue in your cheek. The screen magnifies everything, even the way you are thinking. If you are not serious, people will sense it. No matter how hokum or highly melodramatic the horror part may be, you must believe in it while you are playing it.” – Bela Lugosi (excerpt from New York Times Interview)

It’s good to have a hobby. Some folks like stamp collecting, needlepoint, or model trains.  Dr. Richard Vollin (Bela Lugosi), on the other hand, an ardent Edgar Allan Poe enthusiast, constructs a secret torture chamber based on his favorite author’s works. Following their exceptional performances in The Black Cat (1934), Lugosi and Karloff paired up again in The Raven, a twisted tale of sadism, infatuation and obsession. Although Karloff received top billing* this was clearly Lugosi’s film as the maniacal Dr. Vollin. Under the brisk direction of Lew Landers (aka: Louis Friedlander) and a script by David Boehm,** The Raven was produced on a budget of $109,750 (which eventually grew to $115,209.01). 

* Fun Fact #1: Despite Lugosi dominating the film, as well as the screen time, he only enjoyed second billing, under Karloff (both are billed with their last names, only). He took home $5,000 for five weeks’ work, compared to Karloff’s $10,000 for four weeks’ work.   

** Fun Fact #2: Although Boehm received sole writing credit, the script passed through several hands before it reached him, starting with Guy Endore (Mark of the Vampire). The script subsequently received new iterations from Clarence Marks, Michael Simmons, Jim Tully, and John Lynch. Following his predecessors, Boehm created three complete versions of the script, including some last-minute touch-ups on the final version by Dore Schary.

The movie begins with our heroine, Jean Thatcher (Irene Ware) driving a treacherous winding road in the middle of a stormy night. She loses control of her vehicle, skidding over an embankment. Jean is rushed to hospital, where she lies in a comatose state with nerve damage to her neck, hovering precipitously between life and death. When help is beyond the capabilities of the resident doctors, her father, Judge Thatcher (Samuel S. Hinds), persuades retired surgeon Dr. Vollin to come out of retirement, arguing he’s the best and only hope to save his daughter’s life. Ego appropriately massaged, Vollin agrees. She makes a rapid recovery, but in Vollin’s mind, her obligation to him goes far beyond her father’s gratitude. There’s only one wrinkle – she’s engaged to be married to Vollin’s younger colleague, Dr. Jerry Halden (Lester Matthews), but this obstacle is purely academic to the elder surgeon, who’s becomes entranced by her. When Judge Thatcher senses his infatuation with Jean, he naïvely tries to make him see reason “You don’t want a young girl like Jean falling in love with you.” (Yeah, right.). But Vollin, incapable of taking no for an answer, plots his next move.* Every evil mastermind needs his lackey, and Dr. Vollin finds one in the form of escaped convict Edmond Bateman (Boris Karloff), a man with a propensity towards violence. When Bateman bursts into Vollin’s house, demanding to have his face changed, he gets his wish, but not the way he intended. Vollin severs several nerves, rendering half of his face withered and droopy, including one dead, unblinking eye.**Vollin presents Bateman with a proposition: if he wants his face fixed, he must carry out the doctor’s bidding. Thus begins Vollin’s warped scheme of revenge, which will subject Judge Thatcher, Jean, and her fiancé to the tortures awaiting them in his hidden basement dungeon.*** 

* Fun Fact #4: Consider another movie from 1935, Mad Love, released just a month later, also about infatuation gone toxic. Despite similar themes and a standout performance by Peter Lorre, the arguably superior film from rival studio MGM wasn’t a hit at the time. 

** Fun Fact #3: Considering the fact that makeup pioneer Jack P. Pierce created Karloff’s makeup, the eye (made of bees’ wax and cellophane) looks rather unconvincing. In Pierce’s defense, an earlier version of the makeup used a glass eye, but because it reportedly horrified studio censors, he opted for the makeup used in the film. 

*** Fun Fact #5: Vollin’s dungeon was a recycled, repurposed set originally used in Bride of Frankenstein (1934).

It’s easy to tell Lugosi is having a blast as the deranged Dr. Vollin, who has an unnatural obsession with the works of Poe that goes far beyond a complete library of first editions. In a hidden basement, away from prying eyes, he’s re-created some of the torture devices described by Poe, including a pendulum and a room with moving walls to crush his victims. The self-aggrandizing Vollin views himself as something more than human. After he entertains his adoring patient Jean with haunting music from his pipe organ,* she refers to him as a god. He quickly corrects her: “A god with the taint of human emotions.” When his advances are spurned, he switches into revenge mode, as if he had been waiting for an excuse (any excuse) to try out his torture devices. Judge Thatcher is shackled to a platform, where a swinging bladed pendulum looms every closer. When the judge makes an appeal for sanity, Vollin replies, “I am the sanest man who ever lived! But I will not be tortured! I tear torture out of myself by torturing you!” But Vollin reserves a more Poe-etic death for Jean, when he has her thrown into the crushing chamber with her husband (“You will never be separated, never.”). 

* Fun Fact #6: In addition to featuring Toccata and Fugue in D minor (Bach’s go-to classical piece for villains everywhere) in The Raven, the composition was played by Boris Karloff’s character Hjalmar Poelzig in The Black Cat (1934).  

Karloff does a fine job in a supporting role, as Edmond Bateman, managing to find the humanity in a character who has done horrible things. When his ruined face is first revealed, Dr. Vollin sadistically reveals a wall of full-length mirrors, which Bateman proceeds to shoot out. Vollin’s cruel laughter is offset by Bateman’s growls of frustration and rage, reminiscent of Karloff’s role as Frankenstein’s monster. Besides being the victim of Vollin’s cruel torment, Bateman evokes sympathy for his disfigurement, when the initially shocked Jean apologizes to him for being scared. It is this moment of kindness that will eventually redeem Bateman, and will be Vollin’s undoing. 

Much ado has been made about the supposed rivalry between horror titans Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi (perpetuated by the fun but factually dubious Ed Wood (1994) and its primary source, Nightmare of Ecstasy, by Rudolph Grey). While there may be a kernel of truth about Lugosi’s resentment, there’s no concrete evidence there was any outward animosity between the two actors. In their several collaborations, Karloff always received top billing, as well as the higher salary, but ultimately both enjoyed their craft, displaying a strong sense of professionalism.

Despite several concessions to restrictions mandated by the Production Code,* the finished movie didn’t go over well with critics of the time, who lambasted it for its sadistic themes. The required nips and tucks to the film also didn’t prevent it from being the object of scorn from regional censors, who each took a crack at it (The Raven was banned outright in China, the Netherlands, and in Ontario, Canada). Proving no publicity was bad publicity, however, The Raven was a hit at the box office, and time has vindicated the movie as an example of two horror greats in top form. It’s best not to dwell on the film’s logic (or lack thereof), or the logistics of Vollin constructing an elaborate underground torture chamber underneath his house (Did he hire contractors or did he carry out the construction himself? If he did hire contractors, which seems the most likely option, how did he get them to maintain their silence? So many questions, so few answers.). If you’re anything like me, you’ll stop worrying about what does or doesn’t make sense, and just run with it. The Raven had the unfortunate luck to follow Karloff and Lugosi’s greatest paring, just a year before, in The Black Cat (1934), which has always overshadowed the actors’ subsequent efforts. But even if it’s considered a somewhat “lesser” effort you’re bound to have a devilishly good time. 

* Fun Fact #7: The British Board of Censors were so incensed by The Raven that they refused to evaluate any further horror films… resulting in Hollywood temporarily halting production of horror movies. 

 

Sources for this article: DVD commentary by Steve Haberman; “A Good Game: Karloff and Lugosi at Universal, Part Two”; Karloff and Lugosi – The Story of a Haunting Collaboration, by Gregory William Mank

 

 

May Quick Picks and Pans

 

Schizoid (1980) Klaus Kinski stars as Dr. Fales, a therapist with some serious boundary issues, whose clients are being killed off one by one. Meanwhile, his patient/girlfriend Julie (Marianna Hill) keeps getting threatening letters at her work, but no one, including her soon-to-be-ex-husband Doug (Craig Wasson) appears to take her seriously. Although filled with red herrings galore, the big reveal of the killer isn’t much of a surprise (Spoiler: Surprisingly, it’s not Kinski). Watch for Christopher Lloyd in a small role as a handyman/therapy group patient. 

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray and Tubi

 

The Sister of Ursula (1978) In this would-be giallo by writer/director Enzo Millioni, two sisters travel to Italy to clear their heads after their father’s death. While Dagmar (Stefania D’Amario) tries to make the best of things, her younger sister Ursula (Barbara Magnolfi) remains withdrawn and reclusive, overwhelmed by grief and paranoia. The film compensates for its threadbare plot with copious nudity and a handful of underwhelming murder scenes, culminating in a less-than-thrilling climax (I guessed the killer in the first reel). There are a few stunning shots of the beautiful Amalfi coastline, but if that’s your bag, you’re better off watching a travel show. 

Rating: **. Available on DVD and Tubi 

 

Revolt of the Zombies (1936) Archeologists in World War I-era Cambodia make a terrifying discovery: a stone tablet depicting an ancient ritual to turn men into zombies. Seeing the potential military benefit of a mindless, unstoppable army, a devious general (Roy D’Arcy) steals the tablet. His possession of the artifact proves to be short-lived, however, when it’s appropriated by Armand Louque (Dean Jagger) for his own nefarious purposes. Rather than focusing on the inherent horrors of a zombie hoard, the movie spends an inordinate amount of time with a bland love triangle, comprised of Louque, his former colleague Clifford Grayson (Robert Nolan), and Grayson’s capricious fiancée Claire (Dorothy Stone). Filled with unappealing cardboard characters, a confusing plot, and a generous helping of racism (“This might mean the end of the white race!”), Revolt of the Zombies is a must-miss. 

Rating: **. Available on DVD and Prime Video

Spontaneous Combustion (1989) Tobe Hooper made some of the most memorable horror films of his generation. This is not one of them. The usually reliable Brad Dourif (who seems to be phoning in his performance) plays Sam, whose parents were part of a top secret ‘50s hydrogen bomb experiment gone awry. As a consequence of the experiment, he possesses the power to make people spontaneously combust at will (at least when the plot demands it). The plot is a confusing mess, with underdeveloped characters and hazy motivations. Skip it. 

Rating: **. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Tubi

 

 

December Quick Picks and Pans

 

The Mysterious Castle in the Carpathians (1981) This imaginative, quirky fantasy/ comedy by director/writer Oldrich Lipský (based on a novel by Jules Verne) recalls the work of fellow Czech filmmaker Karel Zeman (with a heaping helping of Terry Gilliam). The opera-singing Count Teleke (Michal Docolomanský) embarks on a quest to find his lost love, Salsa Verde (Evelyna Steimarová), who was abducted by the shadowy Baron Gorc z Gorcu (Milos Kopecký). Teleke’s journey leads him to the Baron’s castle, filled with a host of fanciful inventions (brought to life by animator/prop-maker Jan Svankmajer) by the mad scientist Orfanik (Rudolf Hrusínský). If you’ve had your fill of Hollywood’s cookie-cutter approach to fantasy films, this movie might be just what the doctor ordered. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray, Tubi and Kanopy

 

Invisible Ghost (1942) Bela Lugosi stars as respected citizen Charles Kessler in this Poverty Row production. Despite the promising title, the film harkens back to the whodunits of the silent era, bereft of any supernatural occurrences. Set entirely in Kessler’s house, where a series of murders have occurred (Guess who’s responsible?). If you’re looking for a taut, suspenseful psychological thriller about a man with a tormented mind, you might want to look elsewhere, but it's an entertaining enough potboiler if you don’t dig too deep (Spoiler: The butler didn’t do it). 

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Prime Video

 

The Guyver (1991) What if a makeup effects team directed a movie? It might look something like The Guyver (based on the manga by Yoshiki Takaya). Directed by Screaming Mad George and Steve Wang, it’s essentially a movie built around their freaky/fun creations (although a jive-talking monster voiced by Jimmie ‘JJ’ Walker is a bit much). Sean Barker (Jack Armstrong) is an aspiring karate master with impulse control issues (and the personality of a turnip). He unwittingly becomes fused with an ancient alien biomechanical device, transforming him into a powerful cyborg. He’s caught in a tug-o-war between CIA investigator Max Reed (Mark Hamill) and power-hungry CEO Fulton Balcus David Gale (along with his mutant sidekicks). If you’re in the right mood for some good practical effects and not much else, it’s diverting enough. 

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Tubi

The Undertaker and His Pals (1966) This would-be horror/comedy from director/writer T.L.P. Swicegood (who was obviously taking notes from H.G. Lewis’ Blood Feast) wears out its welcome in a hurry. The owners of a ramshackle diner (that appears to only have one menu item at any given time) are in cahoots with a shady mortician. Their establishments mutually benefit from a fresh supply of bodies, although it hardly seems to be a sustainable business model. The acting is lackluster at best, the effects are sketchy, and worst of all, the film thinks it’s funnier than it is (including sad trombone sounds for extra “hilarity”). Life is short…there are better choices on Tubi. 

Rating: **. Available on DVD and Tubi

 

Psyched by the 4D Witch (1973) Mercifully, this is the only film from writer/director Victor Luminera. Cindy (Margo), a naïve young college student, becomes possessed by the evil spirit of a 17^th-century witch (Esoterica), who takes her on a string of sexual escapades, one more depraved than the other. The washed out, scratchy print on Tubi suits the seedy subject matter, and the theme song plays over and over throughout the film, in case you forgot what the movie was about (spoiler: You’ll wish you did). Lacking any dialogue, the flick is narrated by Cindy and others who succumb to the witch’s control. In the many hallucinatory sequences, “demons,” represented by dollar-store masks and cheap rubber toys, prance about (you don’t need to be a scholar of Sigmund Freud to know what the toy serpent represents). The whole thing looks like it was shot and edited by kindergartners, but if you’re curious, any random five-minute sequence will probably tell you everything you need to know. 

Rating: *½. Available on DVD and Tubi

 

 

Horror Month 2024 Quick Picks and Pans

 

Baby Blood (1990) When Yanka (Emmanuelle Escourrou) discovers she’s pregnant, she leaves her circus life and abusive boyfriend behind. Her troubles have only begun, however, when her body begins to undergo changes. Yanka moves from one abuser to another when the developing fetus begins speaking to her and controlling her actions. When it develops a taste for blood, she’s forced to kill on its behalf. Disturbing, gory and surprisingly funny, Director/co-writer Alain Robak’s Baby Blood takes a lot of chances. One thing’s for certain: you never quite know where it’s going from one moment to the next. 

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Beyond the Darkness (1979) Director Joe D’Amato’s tale of obsession and necrophilia, accompanied by a peppy Goblin soundtrack, horrifies and entrances, in equal measures. After his fiancée (Cinzia Monreale) suddenly dies, Frank (Kieran Canter) can’t bear to part with her. The amateur but skilled taxidermist digs her up and takes her home, much to the dismay of his housekeeper/former nanny Iris (Franca Stoppi), who has the hots for him. It’s all so messed up and in bad taste, but I couldn’t keep my eyes away. Needless to say, it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but if you’re in the mood for some truly demented horror, you’ve struck gold.   

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray, DVD, Prime Video and Tubi

 

The Strange World of Coffin Joe (1968) Everyone’s favorite maniacal, top-hatted undertaker (José Mojica Marins, who also directed and co-wrote the movie) introduces a trilogy of morbid tales for our speculation. In the first, (my favorite of the bunch), a dollmaker renowned for his creations, which feature lifelike eyes, deals with unwelcome intruders. In the second story, a pathetic balloon vendor takes his obsession with a young woman to unhealthy extremes. The final segment stars Marins as a sadistic doctor who uses a hapless couple as guinea pigs to prove his deranged theories about love. 

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

 

Curse of the Blue Lights (1988) No, it’s not about a haunted K-Mart, but a small-town legend concerning evil ghouls who want to immerse the world in darkness. A group of “teens” combat the ensuing zombie horde. Filmed in Pueblo, Colorado for probably less than the fee for Tom Cruise’s hair stylist, this nifty little fright flick from director/co-writer John Henry Johnson keeps things entertaining. There may not be anything particularly original about the plot, but there’s such an earnest quality to the production, and it looks like everyone had fun. 

Rating: ***. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

 

The House that Would Not Die (1970) This low-key made-for-TV horror movie from director John Llewlyn Moxey (City of the Dead) plays a bit like an overlong segment of Night Gallery, with oodles of gothic atmosphere, but few scares. A young woman (Kitty Winn) and her aunt (Barbara Stanwyck) move into a Revolutionary War-era house that once belonged to a prominent general. Strange things start going bump in the night, as the house’s secrets are gradually revealed. It’s a little too languidly paced for its own good, but it has its moments. 

Rating ***. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Tubi

 

No Tears for the Damned (aka: The Las Vegas Strangler) (1968) In this sleazy little proto-slasher, a brow-beaten mama’s boy Jeff Murray (Robert Dix) roams the Las Vegas strip, preying on unsuspecting dancers and sex workers. In an impulsive moment, he marries a naïve hooker (Gillian Simpson), only to leave her at home with his disapproving mother (June Drake). The acting is strictly B-grade, and the murders are unconvincing, but the flick has its weird charms, including some choice dialogue (“He’s as queer as a three-dollar bill.”; or when the protagonist hears that her new husband has been hanging around with a gay piano player: “Guess I’ve been reading the wrong kind of fairy tales.”). Yeah, it’s anything but subtle. 

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray (included in the Vinegar Syndrome’s Lost Picture Show box set) and Tubi

Auntie Lee’s Meat Pies (1992) Karen Black stars as the title character, who runs a booming meat pie business (three guesses what’s in them, and the first two don’t count). Her four lascivious young nieces lure stupid, horny men home to their doom. They’re assisted by Auntie Lee’s childlike brother Larry (Michael Berryman, who seems to be channeling Lenny from Of Mice and Men). Pat Morita also appears as the inept local sheriff, who seems to have a uncanny knack for ignoring the obvious. There are worse ways to spend 100 minutes. 

Fun Fact: Besides sharing a similar theme to Motel Hell (1980) one of the primary filming locations was the Sable Ranch, used in both productions. 

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray and Kanopy

 

The Boogey Man (1980) In the opening scene, a young girl witnesses her brother stab their mother’s abusive boyfriend to death. Flash forward 20 years. While Lacey (Suzanna Love, who also co-wrote the screenplay) tries to live a reasonably mundane life as a wife and mother, her brother Willy (played by Love’s real-life brother, Nicholas), left mute by the traumatic event, still harbors repressed anger. Haunted by nightmares about the incident, she revisits her childhood home with her husband Jake (Ron James). She encounters a mirror that has an evil presence trapped within and shatters it. Inexplicably, she brings it home to reassemble the pieces. Strange deaths begin to occur. Working with the help of her therapist (played by an emaciated John Carradine), Lacey confronts her childhood fears, while contending with an annoying husband who thinks she’s imagining everything. The Boogey Man benefits from some unintentional humor but it’s otherwise standard fare. 

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD, Kanopy and Tubi

Patrick Still Lives (aka: Patrick 2) (1980) Mario Landi directed this unauthorized, unwanted, unnecessary Italian sequel (sort of) to the criminally underrated Australian thriller, Patrick (1978). In this version, several individuals with a checkered past are invited to a doctor’s mansion for a “vacation.” Little do they know they’ll soon be fodder for a comatose patient’s telekinetic rage. Filled with misogynistic men and gratuitous female nudity, but somehow bereft of thrills or scares, it’s got something to annoy everyone. Do yourself a favor and watch the original Patrick instead. 

Rating: *½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Spookies (1986) They don’t make ‘em like they used to, and that’s not always a bad thing. A group of friends (who seem to hate each other) arrive at a secluded mansion to party the night away. They’re trapped by a malevolent sorcerer who wants to revive his dead wife. The subsequent 80+ minutes consist of the clueless companions running around aimlessly, shouting at each other, and screaming incessantly. Credited to three (!) directors, Spookies features some cool low-budget practical effects but suffers from an incoherent plot and unlikeable characters. There are much better low-budget choices for your late-night horror viewing. 

Rating: *½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Tubi