May 17th 1994, is a date of
singular importance for fans of Hammer Horror.
On that day, Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing reunited one last time to
record the narration for Ted Newsom’s documentary on Hammer Films, titled Flesh
and Blood: The Hammer Heritage of Horror. Newsom’s project was a true labor of love. Working with a limited budget, he sought to
get on-camera interviews with as many of the key surviving actors and
production personnel as possible. His
ultimate coup was in securing the services of Lee and Cushing. It would prove to be the first time that the
two old friends had seen each other in a quite a few years,
and it would prove to be their final meeting.
The event transpired at a small studio in
Canterbury, Kent. The studio had been selected largely for the sake of convenience, as it was close to Cushing’s residence and the actor had also recorded some voice overs there in the past. Once all the details had been ironed out and everything was in place the director found himself in the enviable position of helping to
guide the two legends through the paces one last time.
Cushing
was the first to arrive and he was eager to greet Lee upon the latter’s
arrival. Given that Lee hadn’t seen his
old friend in so long, nothing could have prepared him for the shock. Cushing had always been a thin man, but years
of pining for his beloved Helen coupled with terminal cancer had reduced him to
a literal shadow of his former self. According to Newsom, Lee was visibly taken aback for a brief instant,
then rallied and set about keeping his old friend in stitches for the duration
of the session. Ever the pro, Cushing
was ready and eager to get back to work for the first time since recording his vocal track for the album “No White Peaks” in 1991. Cushing didn’t remain idle by choice: he
yearned to work and constant reassurances of future projects from his doting
secretary Joyce Broughton kept him hopeful of doing just that. But the reality was, he was simply too ill
and too frail to secure the necessary insurance guarantees that would enable
him to continue working.
Sooner
than give in to despair, Cushing spent his time charming the residents of his
beloved sea-side town of Whitstable, gave interviews about everything from his career to his strong religious convictions and enjoyed long-distance telephone
calls with old pals like Lee and Vincent Price. The opportunity of going back to a sound stage, even if just for a bit
of voice over work, must have seemed heaven sent. Cushing accepted readily and threw himself
into the project with enthusiasm … however, if the spirit was willing, the
flesh had grown weak. The morning kicked off around 9 AM with some time set aside for the press to come in and ask questions and take some pictures and video commemorating the event. Lee and Cushing kept each other in stitches as they relived old memories and fielded questions from the reporters. Warned by Cushing’s secretary/care taker, Joyce Broughton, that Cushing's energy might start to fail if they didn’t get on with the show, Newsom started recording the narration around 11 in the morning; approximately two hours later, the track was finished and Cushing was ready for some much-needed rest. Before
departing, however, the two men were given a chance to sit, laugh and relax as
recordings of some of their favorite cartoons were provided on video tape; the
spectacle of the imposing Lee and an ailing Cushing rollicking with laughter at
the antics of Bugs Bunny and Sylvester the Cat would surely have been worthy of
a film in itself, but this was private time for two old friends: no press were
invited to partake in the ritual.
After
that, the two men said their farewells and Cushing was taken back to his cottage in Whitstable. As Newsom tells it, Lee’s
demeanor changed rapidly at that moment: shocked and deeply upset by his
friend’s condition, he dropped the jokes and smiles once Cushing was out of
sight and became comparatively curt and ill-tempered; the prospect of losing a
friend so dear to him suddenly became a reality and his tendency to keep his
feelings in check deserted him. One of
the things often trivialized in Lee’s character is the staunch loyalty and
affection he has for his friends and loved ones; as Newsom would later
theorize, he is not a man who handles the loss of loved ones at all well and as
such, facing the reality of just such a happening served to rattle him badly.
The documentary endured a tortured
“birthing process” and was ultimately rushed through post-production when
Hammer’s then-managing director Roy Skeggs (who controlled the British rights
in exchange for footing the bill for Cushing’s pay day) told the gob smacked
director that it was going to air in the UK in early August. Left with virtually no time (let alone money)
to do the material justice, Newsom soldiered on and delivered on time. The first segment aired on August 6th ,1994; shortly before Cushing was admitted into the Pilgrim's Hospice at Canterbury. After a fortnight in the hospice, and between the two instalments of 'Flesh and Blood', Peter Cushing
died on August 11th at the age of 81.
Much
has been written about the end result, some of it positive, a lot of it
negative, but Newsom is to be congratulated for pulling off a minor miracle and
getting these two screen icons together one last time. The two men had very different careers and
were in very different places by the time this final meeting took place:
Cushing’s private life had disintegrated in 1971 when his wife died, but he
took solace in keeping busy, accepting just about any offer he could fit into
his calendar (resulting in quite a few films he really should have said “no” to
doing), but ill health put him on the sidelines.
Lee, by contrast, had enjoyed a brief period
of prosperity when he relocated to Hollywood, hoping to distance himself from
being perceived as a horror film star, things did not go entirely as planned and he
found himself appearing in films quite unworthy of his talents. He remained steadily employed, which was
probably the thing that concerned him the most, but eventually he grew homesick and returned to England, grateful for the
few good opportunities that came his way (notably hosting an episode of
Saturday Night Live) and prepared to do what he needed to do to continue his
career into his old age. In 1994, he
would appear in several films, ranging from the sublime (A Feast at Midnight)
to the ridiculous (Police Academy: Mission to Moscow), but things would
gradually improve over the next few years.
At the time of the recording, Lee was just
shy of 72, while Cushing was close to turning 81 (as fans will of course
realize, they almost shared a birthday: Cushing’s being May 26th and
Lee’s May 27th ; to look at the two of them, one would have thought
there was a greater gap in age than that. Lee survived a heart condition that nearly killed him in the early 80s
and was a vigorous, still commanding presence; Cushing’s condition had
deteriorated to the point that he was almost unrecognizable.
At the time of writing, Lee is now just shy
of his 92nd birthday and while he would age gracefully into his
mid-80s, the cruelty of time coupled with a back injury sustained on the set of
the Hammer production The Resident (2011) have slowed him down and he finally
looks his age, if not older. As we
reflect on this 20th anniversary of their last meeting, let us
remember that Cushing’s death left a void which can never be replaced for fans
of the classic horror film; with that in mind, let us cherish Lee for as long
as he is with us, for we will likely never see this breed of actor again,
especially in the ghettoized confines of the horror genre. But sooner than end things on a gloomy,
despairing note, take solace in this: so long as there are fans out there who
continue to enjoy watching their performances, Peter Cushing and Christopher
Lee will never die.
'ONE LAST TIME' The 20th Anniversary Feature was written by Troy Howarth
Graphics and Image Gallery: Marcus Brooks
Our deepest thanks to Stuart Hughes and Linda King.
With Very Special Thanks to Steve Reed
