Part FIVE of Troy Howarth's 'The Amicus Films of Peter Cushing' is coming up soon! It's 'WANDERING HANDS AND MANNEQUINS' as we take in Cushing's 'ASYLUM' and 'AND NOW, THE SCREAMING STARTS!' Do join us!
Showing posts with label troy howarth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label troy howarth. Show all posts
Wednesday 14 May 2014
TROY HOWARTH'S 'THE AMICUS FILMS OF PETER CUSHING: PART FIVE' : 'WANDERING HANDS AND MANNEQUINS'
Labels:
amicus,
and now,
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zombie.
Thursday 7 November 2013
TROY HOWARTH REVIEWS BRUCE HALLENBECK'S DOUBLE BILL ON HAMMER FILMS 'FRANKENSTEIN' AND 'VAMPIRES'
I must begin this review with a confession: I have known Bruce
Hallenbeck, the author of The Hammer Vampire and The Hammer
Frankenstein, for about 20 years now. "Known" seems a misleading word,
however, as we've never met in person. I first came into contact with
Bruce due to a letter I had written to the magazine Fangoria regarding
the absence of Hammer films on home video in the United States. At that
time, most of the key Hammer films remained out of reach, and those
that were available were often compromised in one way or another. In
those pre-internet days, it was wonderful to find somebody who shared my
passion for these films and we maintained a steady correspondence until
around the end of the decade. After that, we lost track of each other
for a time - and indeed I lost track of my passion for Hammer for a
time, as my interests expanded into the realm of Italian and Spanish
horror - until the wide world of Facebook brought us back
into contact with one another. I guess it would be unreasonable to
expect me to have a truly objective and impartial view of the work of
somebody I've been on good terms with for so long, but... I'll give it a
try, anyway.
Bruce's overviews of the subject matter in these two books is
comprehensive and passionate; it's truly the work of a fan who has
devoured every bit of information he can on these films and their
production histories. The Vampire Film is probably the more ambitious
of the two texts, simply because Hammer experimented so much more with
that genre than they did with the Frankenstein saga. Not only do we get
an overview and critique of all seven "official" entries in the Dracula
series (that is: [Horror of] Dracula; Dracula Prince of Darkness;
Dracula Has Risen from the Grave; Taste the Blood of Dracula; Scars of
Dracula; Dracula AD 1972; The Satanic Rites of Dracula; Legend of the 7
Golden Vampires - in other words, the ones that actually had the
character of Dracula in them!), but
there's also information and critical analyses of such popular titles
as The Brides of Dracula, The Kiss of the Vampire, Vampire Circus and
the "Karnstein Trilogy," comprised of The Vampire Lovers, Lust for a
Vampire and Twins of Evil. Hammer certainly knew how to offer
variations on a theme and this comprehensive study gives ever title
their due.
The Hammer Frankenstein covers a smaller terrain, as the series
was only seven strong and didn't inspire any real spin-offs, but don't
let that deter you: there's plenty of information in store here, as
well.Both books provide a nice recap of the background of the novels
which inspired these popular films - Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and
Bram Stoker's Dracula, naturally - and also offer a good, pithy overview
of the treatment of these subjects in the cinema from the silent era to
the modern day. The books also contain forewords by veterans of their
respective franchises: Jimmy Sangster, the screenwriter who helped to
offer up a tighter, more modern treatment of Dracula, pens the foreword
for The Hammer Vampire, while still-beautiful Veronica Carlson (the
imperiled heroine of Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed and The Horror of
Frankenstein) contributes to The Hammer Frankenstein.
Hallenbeck's prose is smooth and easy to follow throughout. His
enthusiasm for the films comes across in a genuine and unaffected manner
and while I do not always agree with his assessments of the individual
films - indeed, if I had one criticism to level, it's that I simply
think he's too easy on some of these films! - there's no denying that
he's a skillful writer who knows his stuff. Hallenbeck also had access to production documents and original
scripts, thus allowing him to point out the way that directors like
Terence Fisher deviated from what was on the page. The critics who
argue that Fisher was simply a
working hack who shot whatever he was given should be given pause here,
as Hallenbeck clearly outlines some subtle but crucial changes that he
implemented in the filming: if he had stuck with Sangster's script and
allowed Christopher Lee to make his grand entrance as Dracula in the
1958 original with the top hat and visible fangs which were specified,
there's a damn good chance that Hammer Horror may have been struck dead,
right then and there...
Both volumes have been published in the U.K. by Hemlock Film and are to be brought out in the U.S. by Midnight Marquee Press. I cannot comment on the Midnight
Marquee editions as I've not had the opportunity of seeing them, but
the Hemlock books are handsomely designed and feature a nice mixture of
the familiar and the rare with regards to images. All told, these books
- and Bruce's Hammer Sci-Fi - belong on the shelves of Hammer
enthusiasts.
Find out about Troy Howarth's revised and updated 'The Haunted World of Mario Bava' here:
Labels:
bray studios.,
bruce hallenbeck,
dracula,
hemlock film,
midnight marquee,
peter cushing carlson,
the hammer frankenstein,
the hammer vampire,
troy howarth,
vampires
Sunday 14 July 2013
THE HAMMER HOUSE OF HORROR 'THE SILENT SCREAM' REVIEW AND GALLERY
SPOILER ALERT!
Chuck (Brian Cox) is released from prison and
goes to work for Martin Bluek (Peter Cushing), a mysterious gentleman
who has shown the ex-con some kindness. Unfortunately for Chuck, Martin may not be quite the charming old man he appears to be…
Following the dismal box office performance
of Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires, Shatter, To the Devil a Daughter
and, most disastrously, a big budget (and quite ill conceived) remake of
The Lady Vanishes, Hammer Films was pretty much dead in the water. Michael
Carreras sold off his interests in the company, retiring to many years
of wondering what might have been, while Brian Lawrence and Roy Skeggs
tried desperately to make a go of it in television. The two producers hatched an idea for a series of one hour telefilms, to be sold under the banner, The Hammer House of Horror.
PROLOGUE AND TITLE
SEQUENCE : THE SILENT SCREAM
It
seemed an ideal solution to bring the company up to date in the
changing climate of the 1980s – on the one hand, these films could be
cheaply
produced, and on the other, they could trade upon the studio’s
reputation by employing as many of their old guard actors and craftsmen
as possible. In terms of star power, their most
significant acquisition was Peter Cushing, who was hired to play the
lead in The Silent Scream. Given that
Christopher Lee was pursuing bigger fish in Hollywood at the time, the
likelihood of securing their biggest star was slim to nill, and indeed
he would not be lured back into the fold until 2010, when he agreed to
do a cameo in the “new” Hammer’s psychological thriller, The Resident. However,
securing Cushing’s services was a major plus, just the same, and the
actor responded with typical attention to detail and professionalism,
ensuring that Martin Bluek would be one of his most memorable roles for
the company.
The script by Francis Essex is taut and twist
laden, while director Alan Gibson (who had previously guided Cushing
through the two “mod” Dracula films, Dracula AD 1972 and The Satanic
Rites of Dracula) handles the material with skill and economy. The film is also graced by an exceptional, if small, cast. Cushing, as previously noted, is at his best here, running the gamut from charming to chilling. Bluek
presents himself as a kindly philanthropist, but the reality is that he
was once a concentration camp supervisor – and his interests in Chuck
are anything but philanthropic. The way in which he ingratiates himself to Chuck, only to set the desperate man up to fail, makes for quite an interesting
psychological game of cat and mouse.
Brian Cox, a few
years way from achieving major cult stardom by being the first actor to
portray Dr. Hannibal Lector on screen (in Michael Mann’s Manhunter,
1986), is typically intense and credible as the frustrated ex-con who is
trying to make a go of living life on the up and up. Cox
is tremendously sympathetic in the role, ensuring that the audience will
remain on his side through the story’s various twists and turns. Elaine Donnelly is also very effective as Chuck’s doting wife. Cox
and Donnelly have real chemistry together, and the scene wherein
Donnelly attempts to interest her husband sexually only to be shot down
because of the psychological trauma he has endured while in prison has a
truthful ring to
it.
Silent Scream would emerge as probably the
best of the thirteen episodes commissioned by ITC, though several other
episodes also warrant special mention, including Witching Time with Jon
Finch, Rude Awakening with Denholm Elliott, and Mark of Satan with Peter
McEnery. Sadly, despite the presence of such strong
acting talent, and the input of such talented Hammer personnel as
directors Peter Sasdy and Don Sharp (subbing for Terence Fisher, who
passed away before shooting began on the occult segment Guardian of the
Abyss) and screenwriter Anthony Hinds, the series didn’t generate a lot
of interest – and it would not be picked up for a second season.
Undaunted,
Lawrence and Skeggs responded with The Hammer House of Mystery and
Suspense, inflating the running time to 90 minutes, and switching the
emphasis from horror to suspense. It, too, failed to generate interest. Hammer
would then lie dormant for over twenty years, but like one of their
beloved vampires, they, too, would rise from the grave in the new
millennium.
Feature: Troy Howarth
Images: Marcus Brooks
Feature: Troy Howarth
Images: Marcus Brooks
Labels:
alan gibson.,
alex cox,
elaine donnelly,
hammer house horror,
peter cushing,
roy skeggs,
troy howarth
Wednesday 10 July 2013
TIGON'S TALE OF TERROR: THE CREEPING FLESH PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY AND FEATURE
Scientist Emmanuel Hildern (Peter Cushing) unearths what appears to be a missing link while on an expedition in New Guinea. His attempts at unlocking the skeleton’s secrets are compromised by the precarious mental condition of his daughter Penelope (Lorna Heilbron) and the interference of his bitter half-brother James (Christopher Lee)
In the 1950s and 60s, Freddie Francis
established himself as one of the premiere lighting cameramen in Europe,
snagging an Oscar for his work on Sons and Lovers (1960) and winning
much acclaim for his work on The Innocents (1961). Like so many directors of photography, Francis had a yen to direct. He
made his first film as a director in 1962 with the obscure romantic
comedy Two and Two Make Six (1962), but the German-financed The Brain
and the Hammer Films psychological thriller Paranoiac (both also 1962)
pointed to where his career would evolve.
Francis, being a
pragmatist at heart, initially accepted his pigeonholing as a “horror”
director, and would take great pride in imbuing his films with
sufficient visual gloss as a means of patching up the
often inadequate screenplays he was handed to work with. As
time wore on, however, his dissatisfaction became quite evident – and
indeed he would approach most of his directorial assignments of the
1970s with a mixture of contempt and indifference.
There’s
really very little to recommend in such films as The Vampire Happening
(1970), Trog (1970), Craze (1973) and The Legend of the Werewolf (1974),
but signs of his former flair are happily on display in The Creeping
Flesh. Francis responded well to the screenplay by Peter
Spenceley and Jonathan Rumbold, with its heady mixture of Victorian
sci-fi and Lovecraft-flavored chills. The end result is
his last great hurrah as a filmmaker; he would direct only sporadically
from that point on, and in 1980, he made a triumphant return
to the station of lighting cameraman when producer Mel Brooks and
director David Lynch drafted him to lens The Elephant Man. He
would go on to work with some of the most exciting and dynamic
filmmakers of the new generation, including Martin Scorsese (for whom he
shot a super stylish redux of Cape Fear, 1991), and would win another
Academy Award for his work on Glory (1989). Francis died in 2007, at the age of 89.
The story is certainly an eventful one, and it affords both of its iconic lead performers an opportunity to shine. Cushing is cast in the flashier role, while Lee is seemingly relegated to yet another humorless authority figure. Cushing
imbues his character with ample humanity, but it is the character’s
single minded obsessiveness which links him most closely with his most
famous genre characterizations: Baron Frankenstein and Dr. Van Helsing. Emmanuel is very much the absent father. He
dotes on Penelope whenever he returns from his trip, and there’s no
question that he genuinely adores her, but his work always comes first;
ultimately, he fails to realize her gradual slide into madness until it
is too
late. True to form, he attempts to over compensate for
this by using his discovery in an attempt to “cure” her madness on a
biological level – the experiment is doomed to failure, of course, and
one is left wondering just how sane he was from the get go.
Lee’s role as the embittered half-brother doesn’t allow him so much screen time (though he was given top billing in deference to his popularity at the box office), but he delivers a wonderfully detailed characterization, just the same. James can barely contain his contempt and jealousy towards his brother, which prompts him to take a certain sadistic glee in getting the upper hand on him. One gets the sense of James’ lifetime of struggle and unhappiness as he was pushed aside in favor of his more “privileged,” upper crust older brother, and as such his actions become almost understandable. It’s a marvelous performance that seldom gets the attention it deserves.
Lee’s role as the embittered half-brother doesn’t allow him so much screen time (though he was given top billing in deference to his popularity at the box office), but he delivers a wonderfully detailed characterization, just the same. James can barely contain his contempt and jealousy towards his brother, which prompts him to take a certain sadistic glee in getting the upper hand on him. One gets the sense of James’ lifetime of struggle and unhappiness as he was pushed aside in favor of his more “privileged,” upper crust older brother, and as such his actions become almost understandable. It’s a marvelous performance that seldom gets the attention it deserves.
Lee and Cushing are supported by an excellent gallery of character actors. Lorna
Heilbron is superb in the difficult role of Penelope, which requires
her to run the gamut from doe-eyed, doting daughter to wild-eyed, crazed
harlot – and she never hits a false note. George Benson,
who formerly mugged his way through a comic cameo in Terence Fisher’s
Dracula (1958), is excellent as Cushing’s devoted lab assistant. Duncan
Lamont is properly authoritative as the suspicious police inspector
investigating the ensuing carnage, while real-life couple Michael Ripper
and Catherine Finn show up in small roles – he as a blustery
deliveryman, she as Heilbron’s caring housekeeper.
Francis handles the material with energy and
conviction, but the film loses points for its introduction of a
pointless subplot involving hulking character actor Kenneth J. Warren as
an escapee on the loose from Lee’s insane asylum. Warren
is fine in the role, but the subplot goes nowhere and was clearly
crammed into an already busy narrative to pad the running time a bit.
The Creeping Flesh also has excellent
production values – the sets and costuming are on a par with the best of
Hammer, and the creepy music score by Paul Ferris helps to set the
right mood. The cinematography by longtime Francis collaborator Norman Warwick is also lovely without being unduly fussy. Special note must also be made of Roy Ashton’s makeup work.
The title is explained by the fact that the skeleton “grows” flesh when it comes into contact with water – which Cushing discovers when trying to clean it up a bit… The decidedly phallic looking finger that results from this is truly horrific, as is the final reveal of the regenerated skeleton, which becomes exposed to a rain storm when Lee engineers a break in to steal the specimen. Francis even reuses his “skull point of view” gag from The Skull (1965) to maximize the effect of this gruesome makeup.
The title is explained by the fact that the skeleton “grows” flesh when it comes into contact with water – which Cushing discovers when trying to clean it up a bit… The decidedly phallic looking finger that results from this is truly horrific, as is the final reveal of the regenerated skeleton, which becomes exposed to a rain storm when Lee engineers a break in to steal the specimen. Francis even reuses his “skull point of view” gag from The Skull (1965) to maximize the effect of this gruesome makeup.
Fans of Cushing and Lee would do well to check out The Creeping Flesh if they haven’t done so already. And even if you already have, it may well be time to go back and reacquaint yourself with it again; it’s a good one.
Feature: Troy Howarth
Gallery: Marcus Brooks
Feature: Troy Howarth
Gallery: Marcus Brooks
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Labels:
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tigon films,
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Wednesday 26 June 2013
FEAR OLD SCHOOL: 'FEAR IN THE NIGHT' WITH FULL REVIEW AND PCASUK GALLEY
In the 1960s, screenwriter Jimmy Sangster made a jump from Gothic horror to the realm of sting-in-the-tail suspense. It was a move the writer craved, as the Gothic was never a milieu that much appealed to him. He drew inspiration, instead, from the classic French thriller Les Diaboliques (1955), directed by Henri Georges Clouzot. Clouzot’s reputation rivaled that of Alfred Hitchcock in his native France , though his name never became quite as prominent on an international level.
Hitchcock had reportedly attempted to buy the rights to the novel upon which the film was based himself, and when Clouzot beat him to the punch, he persuaded the authors, Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, to write him a fresh piece of material; he would use this material as the backbone for his masterpiece Vertigo (1958). Les Diaboliques may not seem as fresh and vital today, but this is easily explained by the fact that it was ripped off many times – and nobody drew more inspiration from it than Sangster himself.
Indeed,
while many critics would label the thrillers Sangster
wrote for Hammer as “mini Hitchcocks,” the screenwriter
was always quick to point out that they were truly “mini
Clouzots.” The series got off to a winning start
with Taste of Fear (1960), which was directed by the gifted Seth
Holt. The film adopts the Diaboliques formula: an
innocent woman is driven to the brink of madness by callous conspirators.
Taste of Fear proved successful with critics and audiences alike, and Sangster would follow up with Paranoiac (1962), Nightmare and Maniac (both 1963), Hysteria (1964), and Crescendo (1969). The Nanny (1965) and the Richard Matheson-penned Die Die My Darling! (1964) are also often lumped into this series, but the former isn’t really much of a twist-laden shocker, while the latter was done without Sangster’s involvement.
Taste of Fear proved successful with critics and audiences alike, and Sangster would follow up with Paranoiac (1962), Nightmare and Maniac (both 1963), Hysteria (1964), and Crescendo (1969). The Nanny (1965) and the Richard Matheson-penned Die Die My Darling! (1964) are also often lumped into this series, but the former isn’t really much of a twist-laden shocker, while the latter was done without Sangster’s involvement.
One script that
Sangster wrote during this time frame was titled The Claw, and it
dealt with a woman being terrorized by a man with a prosthetic
arm. For whatever reason, it never saw the light of day in the 60s, though it would later be dusted off in
1972, when it would emerge as Fear in the Night.
The story is a simple one: psychologically fragile Peggy
(Judy Geeson) goes to live with her husband Robert (Ralph Bates)
at the boys boarding school where he as just been hired to
teach. While there, she begins seeing and hearing many strange things. Could the one-armed, reclusive school master, Michael (Peter Cushing), be responsible?
As a thriller, Fear in the Night is pretty much lacking in thrills. And as a suspense film, it’s also very much lacking in suspense. The issue is in the casting, though not in the acting.
Everybody is cast much too much to type, thus
making it easy to figure out who is trying to get one over on
whom. If Geeson and Joan Collins (cast, something
unbelievably, as Cushing’s wife) had swapped roles, for example,
the twists and turns of the scenario would have been a
little less glaringly obvious. As it stands, though, Geeson is very much in victim mode throughout, while Collins is her usual bitchy self. Cushing’s
role is very much of the red herring variety, and while
it worked well enough with Christopher Lee in Taste of
Fear, there’s never very much doubt that the character of Michael
is pretty much harmless. That’s not to say that the actors do a poor job – it’s not exactly a tour de force for anybody
involved, of course, but the four principal players (especially Geeson) are in good form.
Much of the blame can be leveled at Sangster, who in
addition to writing (with some polish by Michael Dyson), also
made another crack at directing with this picture. The
film followed on the heels of Lust for a Vampire and The Horror
of Frankenstein (both 1970), neither of which had gone over very
well. To his credit, Sangster displays a
little more flair behind the camera this time around –
there are a few nicely staged sequences, and a memorable credits
sequence with the camera prowling about the deserted school
grounds before settling on the unexpected intrusion of a pair
of feet dangling
from the air, indicating that something has gone awry. Indeed, there is enough here to make one wonder if maybe he didn’t have a much better film in him down the road. As
it stands, however, this would mark Sangster’s last outing as a
director; he would spend the remainder of his career as a
“jobbing” writer and a mercifully pragmatic interview subject.
Fear in the Night failed to ignite much interest, and it would later be released to VHS under the title Dynasty of Fear in an obvious bid to capitalize on Collins’ renewed popularity as Queen Bitch on the popular American soap opera, Dynasty. It would mark the end of Hammer’s run of psychological thrillers, with the company limping through the next few years attempting to trade on their most popular franchises of yore, principally Dracula and Frankenstein
Written by Troy Howarth
Images and design: Marcus Brooks
Labels:
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jimmy sangster,
joan collins,
judy geeson,
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ralph bates,
the claw.,
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