TERENCE FISHER: VINTAGE INTERVIEW EARLY 70'S: 'FRANKENSTEIN AND THE MONSTER FROM HELL'

An interesting little interview and piece of promotion that appeared in a 'NEW REVEILLE' magazine in the UK, back in November 1973. I've taken the text and added our own images. Take note of the quote from Terence Fisher about the 'new techniques' they would be using in Dave Prowse's make up...hmmm.

PETER CUSHING: UNFLAPPABLE ON 'HORROR EXPRESS' 1972.

HAMMER FILM PRODUCTIONS: PETER CUSHING ON FRANKENSTEIN.

PETER CUSHING: GRIMSDYKE RETURNS!

Almost at the end of our series of post here and on the Facebook Uk Peter Cushing Appreciation Society featuring Peter Cushing's role in Amicus Film Productions 'TALES FROM THE CRYPT'. Here's a large photograph of Grimsdyke returning form the grave...

PETER CUSHING AND CHRISTOPHER LEE PROMO 'DRACULA AD 1972'

Established in 1956 and still celebrating the life and career of Peter Cushing OBE!

PETER CUSHING: PUBLICITY PORTRAIT

CLASSIC STUDIO PORTRAITE OF PETER CUSHING FROM AN EARLY HAMMER FILM. BUT WHICH ONE?

PETER CUSHING TALKS ON 'CREATING ARTHUR GRIMSDYKE IN AMICUS FILMS 'TALES FROM THE CRYPT'

FOR MORE PHOTOGRAPHS AND BACKGROUND STORIES FROM 'TALES FROM THE CRYPT' TAKE A WANDER THROUGH THE ARCHIVE OF POSTS HERE AND OUR : THE UK PETER CUSHING APPRECIATION SOCIETY FACEBOOK FAN PAGE: CLICK HERE.

PETER CUSHING: 'GRIMSDYKE AND THE VALENTINE CARDS' PETER CUSHING CLASSIC MOMENTS

An interesting detail with the photograph used for this 'Classic Moment' Peter Cushing would often send publicity pressbooks or photographs to the club for use in the journals. A lovely touch was that he would always write on the backs of the photographs, sometimes a message or as in this case, a little note of the film's title..and his name. As ever, Peter being modest and kind. Thought you'd like to see this -Marcus

PETER CUSHING 'LEGEND OF THE WEREWOLF' MONSTER MAG NUMBER THREE VOL:2

MONSETR MAG COVER AND DOUBLE SPREAD ON PETER CUSHING'S 'LEGEND OF TEH WEREWOLF' TYBURN FILMS (1975)

PETER CUSHING: GRAND MOFF TARKIN SLIPPERS ON SET PHOTOGRAPHS 'STAR WARS' (1977)

I've had so many requests and queries about this one over the last few days...so here it is again: Peter Cushing wearing his carpet slippers during the shooting of 'STAR WARS' in 1977. For those who don't know the story behind this... Peter took a size 12 in footwear. On the first day of shooting, Peter discovered the boots were far too small.. as the wardrobe department could not source a larger pair of boots at short notice, Peter wore his carpet slippers in his mid and close up shots. Yes... he blew up Alderaan in his slippers!

PETER CUSHING AND VERONICA CARLSON : 'THE GHOUL' (1975) FULL REVIEW FEATURE AND GALLERY.

CAST:

Peter Cushing (Dr Lawrence), Alexandra Bastedo (Angela), Veronica Carlson (Daphne Wells-Hunter), John Hurt (Tom Rawlings), Gwen Watford (Ayah), Stewart Bevan (Billy), Ian McCulloch (Geoffrey), Don Henderson (The Ghoul)

PRODUCTION:

Director: Freddie Francis. Screenplay: John Elder [Anthony Hinds], Producer:  Kevin Francis. Photography: John Wilcox. Music:  Harry Robinson. Makeup:  Roy Ashton. Art Direction: Jack Shampan. Production Company – Tyburn. (1975) 

The mid seventies were a troubled time for the once mighty British horror movement. By this point in time the glory days of the late fifties and the sixties seemed but a distant memory as the genres once affluent forbearers Hammer had fallen on black days due to their refusal to move with the times. While certain independent faces (most notably director Pete Walker) attempted to valiantly lead British horror in fresh directions, others foolhardily clung to the misguided belief that what had worked before would work again and persisted in recycling the Hammer patented gothic motifs long after they had become passe.

Tyburn Films was a production company established by the enthusiastic and horror film mad Kevin Francis. Himself the son of the great Freddie Francis who had in previous years directed numerous classic British horror pictures for Hammer, their closest rivals Amicus and others. Tyburn’s meagre horror output was characterised by its steadfast dedication to the antiquated stately gothic horror format, which despite capable direction from Freddie Francis (keeping it in the family) was essentially the work of a company foolishly moving towards what everyone else still involved with the flagging British horror genre was astute enough to be moving way from. Both the merits and failings of Tyburn’s output are readily exemplified by their 1975 effort The Ghoul, which remains perhaps the most memorable of the small clutch of chillers that Tyburn would unleash on an unwilling public during the mid seventies.

Set in 1920’s England, The Ghoul commences at the scene of a swinging, boozy high society get together. With the champagne flowing freely bravado and posturing rear their heads when four of the plucky young revelers agree to participate in a foolhardy motorcar race to Lands End. After pairing off into two couples the inebriated racers speed off southbound and inevitably the occupants of both vehicles soon get hopelessly lost en route to their destination.

One by one the lost racers find themselves at the isolated Cornish manor house of defrocked clergyman Mr Lawrence (played by Peter Cushing) located slap bang in the middle of a treacherous expanse of fog enshrouded marshland. Having spent the majority of his life living in India, Mr Lawrence has now returned to his English home where he is served by brutish gardener Tom (a young(ish) John Hurt) and his stern, sinister housekeeper (played by a blacked up Gwen Watford) whom he bought back from India with him.

As Lawrence’s unwitting guests make their way through the hazardous bogs and up to the manor house itself, they are soon unfortunate enough to discover their hosts terrifying secret. During his time in India it appears that Mr Lawrence incurred the wrath of a diabolical cult devoted to the worship of the goddess Kali. As a result Mr Lawrence is now left with something very nasty in one of his back rooms, something with an insatiable hunger for human flesh!

Had it been released perhaps seven or eight years earlier then the chances are that The Ghoul could have been a modest success story. However, by the time The Ghoul did surface, its cinematic style was unceremoniously out of vogue and considered by both critics and audiences alike to be old hat. By 1975 the momentum, as regards to screen horror, had swung to the other side of the pond where William Friedkin’s box office monster The Exorcist (1973) had shocked audiences worldwide and the surprise success of Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) had ushered in a new age for the horror genre. Up against such contemporary and wildly popular shockers neither The Ghoul nor Tyburn’s similarly solid yet archaic Legend Of The Werewolf (released the same year) could hope to compete. Critics were almost unanimous in their unimpressed “seen it all before” approximation of these efforts and more importantly neither picture registered little in the way of commercial impact. In fact both actually turned out to be money losers, thus signifying that Britain’s long running love affair with the period gothic chiller was finally over. Incredibly Tyburn would recover and continue to operate well into the nineties, moving onto various television projects following their brief flirtation with horror which had almost bankrupted the company.

However, taken purely on its own merits The Ghoul is a much easier film to enjoy now in retrospect than it probably was back at the time of its original release. While the end results never come close to setting the world on fire, director Freddie Francis is undoubtedly one of the old masters of the Hammer Horror style gothic style and directs with both pace and aplomb resulting in a proficient and atmospheric little chiller. The script written by Francis’ fellow old hand Anthony Hinds (under his familiar John Elder pseudonym) may be mighty familiar stuff, but in Francis' capable hands it unfolds satisfyingly onscreen. In many respects Hinds’ script can be looked upon as a subtle reworking of the one he had penned almost a decade earlier for the excellent Hammer film The Reptile (1966), which served up a similar yarn concerning an oddly sinister middle-aged gentleman forced to cover up the existence and true identity of a man beast spawned as the result of an Eastern curse. This plot, it should be noted, was also blatantly “borrowed” by writer Peter Bryan in his script for Vernon Sewell’s atrociously poor British horror effort The Blood Beast Terror (1968) which, funnily enough, also starred Peter Cushing.

Of course The Ghoul is nothing the British horror fan hasn't seen before as expendable protagonists wade through the murky bogs of Pinewood Studios wherein the prop men have once again overdone it a bit with the trusty old smoke machine. After dodging their way past the slavering ex-soldier turned violent simpleton groundskeeper who lurks in the fog waiting to waylay any passing maidens, our plucky young things finally make it to the old manor house. Once there it soon becomes readily obvious to anyone whose seen a few films of this ilk before to realise that the cordial but evasive Peter Cushing (who could act his way through this sort of stuff in his sleep) is harbouring a dark secret. Meanwhile from the amount of ominous shots of the back room door creaking open you just know something ghastly is behind it waiting to be revealed, but only once every disposable cast member has been gorily killed off in the interim. If that doesn’t give the game away then the very suspect pots of raw, bloodied meat Lawrence’s barmy Indian housekeeper keeps leaving outside the door certainly do.

Yet whilst totally predictable The Ghoul breeds a certain warmth (as opposed to contempt) in its familiarity and is seldom anything short of brisk and richly atmospheric as Francis uses the ominous foggy marshlands and eerie interiors of the Lawrence household to pleasingly creepy effect. Meanwhile, The Ghoul also benefits from a wonderful performance from Peter Cushing as the benevolent yet obviously tortured Mr Lawrence. Fortunately Cushing is on something nearing his best form here and beautifully conveys his character's underlying sense of familial loss and sorrow. Particularly memorable is one moment in which for Cushing his art becomes intermingled with the tragedy of life. With Mr Lawrence relating the death of his wife he picks up a framed photograph of her. The woman in the said photograph is in actual fact Peter Cushing’s own wife who had died just a couple of years earlier and the tears we see shed by the veteran star are actually genuine.

Additionally Cushing receives capable support from a pre-fame John Hurt as Mr Lawrence’s ruffian gardener Tom Rawlins and an effortlessly sinister Gwen Watford as his fanatical Indian housekeeper. Elsewhere regular Hammer starlet Veronica Carlson is as attractive and capable as always in her role as the most headstrong of the films fetching young femmes, but by contrast a young Ian McCulloch seems somewhat awkward as the apparent hero of the hour. As most horror buffs will no doubt be aware, McCulloch would later return to the genre via leading man appearances in a trio of Italian made shockers, namely Lucio Fulci's classic Zombie Flesh Eaters (1979), Mario Girolami's dopey Zombie Holocaust (1980) and Luigi Cozzi's cheap and cheerful Alien knock-off Contamination (also 1980).

While a lesser filmmaker would struggle to milk much mileage out of such an essentially tired, recycled premise, Freddie Francis draws upon his vast experience to generate some well judged and proficiently executed shock moments amidst the scripts seemingly bottomless bag of British horror cliches. The memorable, suspenseful opening scene in which a young party reveler is discovered hanging by a bloodied hook through his neck in a dusty back room, whilst essentially a silly false scare, opens the film in a stylish and suitably macabre fashion. However, by far the films most effective moment comes in the form of the sudden, shock butchering of a female protagonist who, up until that point at least, had been the primary focus of the film and seemed to be its apparent heroine. The parallels between this and the legendary demise of Janet Leigh in Hitchcock’s classic Psycho are obvious and no doubt intentional.


Not quite so effective however, is the final revelation of “The Ghoul” itself, which when unveiled turns out to be a pretty feeble offering it must be said. Up until the conclusion Francis had thus far kept things tight by conveying the monsters presence through creepy shots of the fiends scarred, sandal-clad feet thudding along corridors and down staircases in pursuit of his human prey. So when the viewer is finally greeted by the less than terrifying spectacle of British character actor Don Henderson bald-headed and wearing a loincloth with his face painted a sickly shade of green it is something of an anticlimax to say the least. Therefore, despite Cushing’s suitably tortured lamentations, The Ghoul fizzles out on something of a flat note, which is a bit of a shame I must say.

All in all no one should be under any illusions that The Ghoul is a fully fledged classic by any stretch of the imagination. What The Ghoul certainly is however, is a film that has gained immeasurably from the gift of retrospect. Despite being hideously behind the times back in 1975 and rejected accordingly, viewed now The Ghoul fails to make any real lasting impression but is nonetheless an extremely well made and enjoyable British gothic that holds up just about as well as any other formula British horror effort from the sixties or seventies you might care to mention.

For some The Ghoul might prove an unnecessary trudge down a path walked down more than one too many times already, but if one can look past the blatant over familiarity of the material then The Ghoul, thanks in no small part to a strong, impassionaed starring turn by Cushing and Freddie Francis' expertly atmospheric direction, registers as nothing less than a professional job well done. I'd struggle to see any true blue fan of British horror films not enjoying it.

'The Ghoul' is recommended.

REVIEW: Jack Smith
Original Posting: HERE
IMAGES: Marcus Brooks

PETER CUSHING: THE DAILY WALK...

Peter Cushing looks out to sea from his favourite spot on the harbour at his home town of WHITSTABLE, Kent, England. This was a walk he did most days, come rain or shine.. (circa 1990)

PETER CUSHING: VAN HELSING: THE BEST OF THE BEST?

Peter Cushing has played VAN HELSING and descendents of VAN HELSING in five of Hammer Film Productions 'DRACULA' films.. Which one is your favourite performance?

HAMMER FILM PRODUCTIONS: IS THIS THE BEST OPENING SCENE FROM A HAMMER FILM?

WHAT DO YOU THINK? WOULD LOVE TO READ YOUR COMMENTS AND THOUGHTS!

PETER CUSHING: 'AND NOW THE SCREAMING STARTS! ..' DVD REVIEW AND LOBBY GALLERY

CAST:

Stephanie Beacham (Catherine Fengriffen), Peter Cushing (Dr Pope), Ian Ogilvy (Charles Fengriffen), Geoffrey Whitehead (Silas), Herbert Lom (Sir Henry Fengriffen), Patrick Magee (Dr Whittle), Rosalie Crutchley (Mrs Luke), Janet Key (Bridget), Guy Rolfe (Lawyer Maitland), Sally Harrison (Sarah)

PRODUCTION:

Director – Roy Ward Baker, Screenplay – Roger Marshall, Based on the Novel Fengriffen by David Case, Producers – Max J. Rosenberg & Milton Subotsky, Photography – Denys Coop, Music – Douglas Gamley, Art Direction – Tony Curtis. Production Company – Harbor Productions Inc/Amicus.

--And Now The Screaming Starts! (1973) is a brooding, not very successful attempt by Amicus Productions to break away from its successful horror anthologies, essentially short stories with contemporary settings, with a feature-length period horror film more along the lines of those commonly made by Hammer. Though interesting in some respects, the final product is like an anemic Rebecca meets The Hound of the Baskervilles, with a second act pilfered from Rosemary's Baby.

In 1795 England, Catherine (Stephanie Beacham) has just married Charles Fengriffen (Ian Ogilvy) and moved onto the family's massive estate. Almost at once however, Catherine has strange, horrifying visions. A bloody arm bursts through a portrait of Charles's grandfather, Henry (Herbert Lom, seen in a brief flashback); a disembodied hand (played by a rubber prop with a motor in it) scurries about the floor; a man with his eyes plucked out repeatedly appears outside various windows; and in bed Catherine is nearly strangled to death by a shadowy figure missing one of his hands.

It quickly becomes clear that Charles is withholding from Catherine a dark family secret, almost literally a skeleton in the Fengriffen closet. With family physician Dr. Whittle (Patrick Magee) stymied from revealing the dark secret (why?), Van Helsing-esque, Sherlock Holmesian Dr. Pope (Peter Cushing) is called to the case.

The biggest problem with --And Now The Screaming Starts! (and yes, that's how the title appears onscreen) is that it's so determined to rush headlong into its scenes of horror that it never takes the time to give its audience any background on who its main characters are or why we should care about them. We know nothing about Catherine and Charles's backstory and, as far as the film is concerned, their short-lived newlywed bliss lasts all of 30 seconds before the horror commences. After that, the two characters aren't even in the same room most of the time. Partly this may have been an effort to dramatize the more formal structure of 18th century married life among the privileged class, but their curious lack of scenes together only comes off like screenwriter Roger Marshall (adapting David Case's novel) was simply trying to put off an inevitable confrontation as long as possible. It's also possible that a more sexually complex adaptation had been conceived but dropped. More on this shortly.

Instead, the film parades one series of strange-goings-on and other horror set pieces after another but without compelling characters to hang them on they just don't make much of an impact (though the bit with the arm bursting through the painting is pretty effective. Conversely, the disembodied hand looks pretty phony; the filmmakers would have been wise to study The Beast with Five Fingers for ways around such technical limitations.)

 

The film also eschews any suggestion that Catherine's horrific visions may be entirely in her mind; it's bluntly clear, certainly after people start dropping dead left and right, that something is going on, but this only serves to deflate the suspense even further. The film had great potential with aspects of Catherine and Charles's sexual relationship hinted at yet never actually explored, such as Charles' odd absence from Catherine's bed on their wedding night. But the film isn't being subtle: it's merely avoiding the obvious, aspects of the story that presumably appeared in the novel but which were deleted for the screenplay.

Also undermining the horror is the film's flat, even lighting of the elaborate, two-story set used for interiors of the Fengriffen mansion. (Exteriors of the estate were shot on the familiar grounds of Oakley Court, seen in numerous Hammer films.) Apparently the filmmakers opted to build this set for logistical reasons rather than shoot in a real mansion, but this was probably a mistake. Though quite extravagant by Amicus standards, it never looks like anything other than a set, and everyone is so obviously proud of the damn thing that the camera constantly pans and dollies lovingly over every square foot, making sure audiences appreciate how expensive it was.

The film is only fitfully effective. Far more evocative than the mansion interiors is art director Tony Curtis's (not the Hollywood actor) fenced-in, neglected family graveyard, the site of one particularly gruesome bit of horror intact on this DVD but originally cut when the film was first released in America.

Beacham is fine in a difficult role, and though Peter Cushing's part is little more than a variation of two of his best-loved characters (see above), he's still very effective and livens up what might have been an excruciating second act. Though top-billed, Cushing doesn't appear until the film is half over, and second- and third-billed Lom and Magee have small roles. It's really Beacham's film all the way. The good supporting cast includes Mr. Sardonicus himself, Guy Rolfe, and The Haunting's Rosalie Crutchley.

VISUAL AND AUDIO: 

Dark Sky's DVD of --And Now The Screaming Starts! is an excellent 16:9 enhanced, region-free transfer that approximates the original widescreen aspect ratio, here presented at 1.77:1. Originally printed by Technicolor, the hues are accurate and the image sharp and free from much damage or wear. The English mono audio is clean and clear, and optional English subtitles are included.

EXTRA FEATURES:

Supplements include two audio commentaries, the first hosted by Marcus Hearn and featuring director Roy Ward Baker and Stephanie Beacham, together for the first time since the film's postproduction more than 30 years ago. As usual, Hearn asks good, probing questions, keeps the guests on track, and supplements their answers with additional bits of information. An excellent job.

 

A second track, this time hosted by Darren Gross, features actor Ian Ogilvy. It's less focused but still pretty entertaining. One is tempted to say that the two tracks should've been combined into one, but there's enough here to justify separate commentaries.

Also included is a good Photo Gallery of international ad art: posters, lobby cards, etc. There are spoiler-filled trailers for --And Now The Screaming Starts (16:9), Asylum and The Beast Must Die (both 4:3 full frame). All are complete with narration and text, though the one for The Beast Must Die is in poor condition.

 

Finally, brief but useful Biographies with short filmographies are included for Peter Cushing, Roy Ward Baker, Stephanie Beacham, Ian Ogilvy, Herbert Lom, and Max J. Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky.

Christopher Gullo contributes singularly weak liner notes on all three Dark Sky/Amicus releases (the others being Asylum and The Beast Must Die). The notes on this title could've been much longer (there's a page and a third of empty space), and on each Gullo simply offers an unneeded plot synopsis, a paragraph-long, capsule history of Amicus (repeated word-for-word on all three liner notes), and a couple of not very enlightening paragraphs of criticism.

 

PARTING THOUGHTS: 
Horror completests will want to own --And Now The Screaming Starts! but even they will likely be disappointed with the film, though they'll likely feel greatly compensated by Dark Sky's handsome presentation.

Original Review: HERE
Images: Marcus Brooks
Buy reviewed DVD: HERE