REVIEW AND GALLERY: 'FRANKENSTEIN AND THE MONSTER FROM HELL' THE BARON IN BEDLAM

Simon Helder (Shane Briant) is arrested on charges of sorcery when it is discovered that he is following in the foosteps of the infamous Baron Frankenstein.  Upon being confined to a lunatic asylum, Helder is shocked to find that the doctor in charge is none other than Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) himself…

Although The Curse of Frankenstein was the film that put Hammer Studios and actors Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee “on the map,” as it were, as a series it never quite matched their Dracula franchise in terms of popularity.  Hindsight has demonstrated, however, that the Frankenstein series was far more consistent in quality.  Even so, while Warner Brothers reportedly balked at backing a Christopher Lee-less Dracula (Taste the Blood of Dracula, 1969, had been designed to showcase Ralph Bates as a possible replacement for the vocally dissatisfied veteran), Hammer faced no such opposition when they decided to reboot the Frankenstein series with a younger Baron.  As such, Peter Cushing sat out on Horror of Frankenstein (1970), with none other than Bates taking over the role. The film was was a flop, and Hammer decided to go back to basics with their next entry. The film was a flop, and Hammer decided to go back to basics with their entry.

Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell would mark Hammer’s last true Gothic of the era, their last Frankenstein film to date, and Terence Fisher’s swansong as a director.  It is, in many respects, the end of an era.

The screenplay by Anthony Hinds (written under his usual nom de plume of John Elder) would also mark his final feature length script produced by the company, and it has been remarked upon that it bears some similarities to Jimmy Sangster’s screenplay for The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958).  A definite air of déjà vu does hang over the proceedings, but the film never seems stale or half hearted; if anything, it’s something of an elegy for a period of filmmaking that was inevitably drawing to a close.  Hinds and Fisher bring the film up to date by indulging in a number of memorably gory set pieces, but in every other respect it’s very much apiece with the classical style of Hammer horror.  The film doesn’t aim for the experimental, elliptical style of storytelling one will find in the films Christopher Wicking was writing for Hammer during this period, for example (including Demons of the Mind and Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb, 1971), not does it seek to amp up the “sleaze” quotient by tossing in some gratuitous nudity or lesbian lovemaking.

Some critics have attempted to argue that there is a specific continuity from entry to entry in the series, but close examination of the films doesn’t lend much credence to this.  Despite my admitted belief in the auteur theory, which places tremendous emphasis on the role of the director in the filmmaking process, the auteur of this particular series is not so much Terence Fisher as it is the various screenwriters.  Jimmy Sangster wrote both Curse and Revenge, and the two films link together clearly and coherently.  When Anthony Hinds took over screenwriting duties with Evil of Frankenstein and Frankenstein Created Woman, he essentially ignored everything that had come before and offered a kinder, gentler slant to the character.  Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, written by Bert Batt, most certainly was not consistent with Hinds’ conception – but it did link into the ruthless character devised by Sangster.

With Monster from Hell, Hinds resumed screenwriting chores – and sure enough, the story links into his earlier efforts far more comfortably than it does to the film that immediately preceded it.  (I am divorcing Horror of Frankenstein from this equation, as it was ultimately a tongue in cheek retread of Curse, and it remains an anomaly in the franchise.)  Thus, Evil of Frankenstein ends with the Baron fighting for his life in a fiery conflagration.  Created Woman establishes that his hands are burned.  And Monster from Hell refers back to the character having burned his hands in a fire, thus rendering him useless when it comes to performing intricate surgery.  The Baron’s disposition is also far more mellow and cheerful than the black hearted sadist and black mailer of Must Be Destroyed, though by this stage in the saga it’s quite apparent that Frankenstein is as insane as the patients he is treating at the asylum.

It's unlikely that anybody associated with the film knew that it represented "the end of the line," so to speak.  Chances are, if the film had been a big hit at the box office, Hammer would have put more Frankenstein films in the pipeline.  Indeed, around this time, Italian writer/director Dario Argento even approached the studio with a pre-packaged Frankenstein film of his own - albeit one quite disconnected from their saga, detailing the Baron's attempts to create a super human being in Nazi Germany, with Timothy Dalton attached to play the lead.  This failed to come to fruition, however, as Monster from Hell demonstrated yet again that what Hammer was offering the public simply wasn't in step with the times.  The film's attempts to appease current audience trends towards more graphic violence and gore put off some of the more traditional (ie., genteel) fans, while simultaneously failing to reel in new converts.  Even so, there is a definite sense of finality and melancholy that runs throughout the film.  Whether this was evident when the film was first released, or if it merely seems to be the case in hindsight is open to speculation.  Regardless, if Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed is the "angry" nihilistic entry in the franchise, then Monster from Hell is very much its elegy.

For his final directorial outing, Fisher was blessed with a superb ensemble.  Cushing is immaculate as usual as the Baron, tossing off lines in a distracted manner befitting the character's descent into madness.  Shane Briant is a fine addition to the franchise, evolving from wide eyed pupil to appalled antagonist.  Madeline Smith isn't given much to do as the mute assistant, Sarah, but she brings a delicate, doll like quality to the role.  David Prowse, previously cast as the monster in Horror of Frankenstein, does a nice job under the circumstances - he evokes ample sympathy, but the overdone makeup design is much too over the top to be taken seriously (I understand that the unwitting "donor" of the body was something of a "Neolithic throwback," but really?).

John Stratton steals many scenes as the lecherous director of the asylum, and familiar character faces like Patrick Troughton, Peter Madden and Bernard Lee (who must have really needed the cash - he has but one scene, with no dialogue) add flavor throughout.  Fisher handles the film with his customary economy and skill, adopting an almost detached, documentary-like quality to the various surgery setpieces.  James Bernard is also on hand to contribute a good score, one of his last ever for the studio.

Ultimately, Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell deserves much more respect than it typically receives.  Many a film franchise has been known to go out on a sour note (Castle of Fu Manchu, anyone?), but Monster from Hell proves to be a happy exception.  It is in many respects one of the best films in the series; if you haven't seen it lately, do yourself a favor and take another look.  It's worth it.

HAMMER FILMS 'DRACULA' BLU RAY COMBO NOW JUST £9.25

The blu ray / dvd combo release of Hammer Films classic 1958 'DRACULA' is now reduced in price to just £9.25. The jewel in Hammer Films restoration project. Includes the lost footage and bumper package of extras. Starring Peter Cushing as Van Helsing and Christopher Lee as Dracula, it never got better than this. Highly recommended!

http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00ADSR962

 

GRAND MOFF TARKIN: PETER CUSHING

Peter Cushing as Grand Moff Tarkin as seen in 'Star Wars' Directed by George Lucas (1977)

PETER CUSHING NEWS : DOREEN HAWKINS DIES AT 94

NEWS: DOREEN HAWKINS DIES AT 94. (Telegraph Newspaper 17.06.2013)
Doreen Hawkins, the widow of the late actor Jack Hawkins, surprised her friends late in her life when she disclosed how she had very nearly married Peter Cushing. Mandrake is sorry to hear of the death of Doreen Hawkins, the widow of the late actor Jack Hawkins, by whom she had three children. She was 94.

Late in her life, the former actress startled her friends by disclosing how she had nearly married Peter Cushing. She broke off the engagement to the future horror film star because she didn’t care for the way he kept bursting into tears and arriving for dates accompanied by his parents.

Mrs Hawkins, who lived until the end of her life in a grand apartment in Pont Street, Knightsbridge, married Jack Hawkins in 1947. They were together until his death in 1973.

Sir Donald Sinden, a friend since he appeared in The Cruel Sea with her husband, said he would miss her. “She had a wonderfully dry sense of humour," Sir Donald recalled. "She and Jack had a famously ugly villa on Cap Ferrat, opposite where David Niven had a place, and we had magical family holidays with them.”

NEWS : AUCTIONED PETER CUSHING ITEMS BRING IN TEN TIMES ESTIMATED VALUE FOR HOSPICE CHARITY

NEWS: Personal items belonging to Peter Cushing sold for more than TEN TIMES their estimated value when they went under the hammer at Canterbury Auction Sales on Wednesday 12th June. Offered as a single lot they were sold to a local private collector for £1,700 and the money is being donated to the Pilgrim's Hospices by co-executor of Peter Cushing's estate, Bernard Broughton. Canterbury Auctions also waived it's commission fee for the sale of the items. They had been cataloged with an estimated value of £150. 

Mr Broughton helped care for Peter Cushing in his latter years, before he died at Pilgrims Hospice, Canterbury in August 1994. Mr Broughton has been generous in his support of the Pilgrims Hospices. Mr Broughton who attended the auction, said afterwards, 'I am pleased with the result and I know Peter would have been too. He was extremely well looked after by the hospice at the end of his life' Pictured Bernard Broughton with the sale items with his wife, Joy (right) and Pilgrims regional Fund Raiser, Deborah Kellond.

'CALL HIM, MR SHATTER' PETER CUSHING AND STUART WHITMAN: KUNG FU FIGHTING WITH HAMMER AND SHAW BROTHERS

If you're stuck for a Peter Cushing film to watch tonight, here's a 'interesting' outing Peter did for Hammer and Shaw Bros in 1974, as part of the 'Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires' package. ''Shatter' or 'Call Him, Mr Shatter' is quite dated now, but if you can get around the mucho kung fu action sequences, there is a very good scene with star Stuart Whitman and Peter. A relaxed performance from Cushing, but with an edge of menace. Here's the whole film on youtube.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4K2hbLxBjc

'THE BEAST MUST DIE' REVIEW AND STILLS GALLERY: AMICUS FILMS 1974 GROWLINGLY GOOD WHO-DONE-IT.

Egomaniacal big game hunter Tom Newcliffe (Calvin Lockhart) invites a disparate group of friends and associates to his rambling mansion for a weekend getaway; little do they realize that it’s a ploy engineered by Newclife, who believes that one of them is a werewolf… and he’s anxious to add just such a specimen to his trophy case…

By the mid-70s, cracks were beginning to appear in the foundation of the Amicus House of Horror.  Producers Max J. Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky had achieved success in the 60s with a string of low budget horror films with classy production values, but their run was bound to come to an end.  It wasn’t just Amicus who was suffering, either.  Hammer Films, the reigning Kings of British horror, were also on their way out.  The horror genre was changing, and the success of pictures like Night of the Living Dead (1968) and The Exorcist (1973) signaled that the old school of horror filmmaking was beginning to look a bit passé.

Subotsky and Rosenberg responded much as Hammer had done, by adding a bit more graphic gore and sex to pictures like And Now The Screaming Starts! (1973), but it proved to be a cynical move that did little to improve their box office favors.  When the time came to do The Beast Must Die, they decided to fall back on the William Castle school of gimmicky filmmaking by adding in a “werewolf break,” wherein the film literally freezes for half a minute just before the last act, thus giving audiences a chance to make one final guess on the identity of the werewolf… as if the identity was really all that hard to guess, anyway.  No matter – it was a silly gimmick, and it did little to improve the film’s box office takings.  The Beast Must Die, like the aforementioned And Now The Screaming Starts!, broke from the Amicus “formula” by sticking to a single-plot narrative structure.  And it, too, failed to garner much enthusiasm from audiences, thus helping to speed the company towards its inevitable oblivion.

The screenplay was adapted by screenwriter Michael Winder from a story called “There Shall Be No Darkness” by James Blish.  It is, in essence, a conflation of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None (aka, Ten Little Indians) and Richard Connell’s The Most Dangerous Game, with elements of the werewolf mythos stirred in for good measure.

In the hands of first time director Paul Annett (who would later go on to direct some good episodes of the Granada Sherlock Holmes series starring Jeremy Brett), it rattles along at a pretty good clip – but sadly, it falls short where the werewolf itself is concerned.  Sooner than make up the actor playing the werewolf (no spoilers here, folks!), they elected to try and make a friendly looking pooch look intimidating with some extra fur and “creepy” lighting and camera angles.  It doesn’t work.  Thus, the finale doesn’t have quite the punch that it really should.

As usual for Amicus, there’s a good cast on display.  The lead role went to African-American Calvin Lockhart when the original choice, Robert Quarry (Count Yorga, Vampire), proved to be unavailable; much like Vincent Price, who had been forced to pass on The House That Dripped Blood, Quarry rankled when his boss at American International Pictures refused to release him to do a horror film for a “competitor” such as Amicus.  According to Annett’s commentary track on the DVD release of the film, Lockhart proved to be difficult to deal with, as he resented that the role was not conceived for a black actor and he believed that the producers were simply trying to cash in on the then-popular Blaxploitation movement.

In response to this, Lockhart played up the character’s wealth and culture, resisting the urge to fall into any kind of an ethnic stereotype.  It’s an enjoyably arch performance, but one can sense the actor struggling against the material, and one is left regretting that Quarry was not allowed to do the picture instead.  Amicus surrounded Lockhart with some wonderfully accomplished performers, including Charles Gray (Diamonds Are Forever), Anton Diffring (Where Eagles Dare) and, of course, Peter Cushing.  Cushing is cast in his usual savant role, but the whodunit nature of the material ensures that he, too, comes under suspicion of being a werewolf.

Cushing doesn’t have a great deal to do here, and he adopts a somewhat inconsistent Norwegian accent, but he’s still a welcome presence.  Diffring, often cast as icy villains, is enjoyable in a warmer-than-usual role, as Lockhart’s sardonic surveillance expert, while Gray is his usual acerbic and amusing self as one of the reluctant houseguests.

The film also contains an early appearance by Michael Gambon, later to achieve fame as the hero of Dennis Potter’s The Singing Detective and numerous films by Stephen Frears, Tim Burton, and others.  Beautiful Marlene Clark (Ganja and Hess) is the only other black actor in the production, and she gives arguably the film’s strongest performance, as Lockhart’s long-suffering wife.

Amicus’ classy production values are much in evidence, despite some unfortunate shortcuts here and there.  Jack Hildyard (an Oscar winner for films like Bridge on the River Kwai) handles the cinematography, which is slick if not especially memorable; some bad day for night photography betray the haste with which the film was shot, however.

Douglas Gamley contributes a funky score which has been derided in recent years as being dated… Films inevitably reflect the period in which they were made, however, and the music is no more distracting in this sense than the bell bottoms and butterfly collars which are evident throughout.  Annett handles the material with smooth efficiency, milking maximum impact from a few key suspense scenes.

The Beast Must Die would be Amicus’ one and only foray into the werewolf subgenre, and it would mark the first of only two films on the subject in which Cushing appeared (the second would emerge the following year, with Tyburn’s Legend of the Werewolf, itself a clumsy retread of Hammer’s Curse of the Werewolf).  It may not rank among their finest achievements, but it remains a fun and well paced item on its own terms.

Written by Troy Howarth
with Images and artwork by Marcus Brooks    

SIMPLE AS THAT. SIR CHRSITOPHER LEE ON 'THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN' (1957)

TIME WITHOUT PITY: PETER CUSHING AND MICHAEL REDGRAVE PUBLICITY STILL.

CAST: Peter Cushing, Ann Todd, George Devine, Renee Houston, Lois Maxwell, Alec McCowen, Leo McKern, Joan Plowright, Michael Redgrave

SYNOPSIS:

David Graham has only 24 hours to save his son, Alec, from hanging. Alec has been convicted of murdering his girlfriend, Jenny Cole. David visits the home of wealthy car magnate, Robert Stanford, where the girlfriend was killed.

Graham finds a number of possible suspects, including Stanford's young wife, Honor, his secretary Vickie Harker and also Alec's friend Brian, who is Stanford's adopted son.

Directed by Joseph Losey

Cinematography Freddie Francis

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_Without_Pity

NEWS: PETER CUSHING ITEMS GO UNDER THE HAMMER FOR PILGRIMS HOSPICE CHARITY

A selection of personal items belonging to Peter Cushing went under the hammer this morning at the Canterbury Auction and Gallery, UK. Included in Lot Number 1026 were: Elizabeth II silver miniature commemorative pipe - "Pipe Man of the Year 1968" Award, a Dunhill lighter, two walking canes, a Giclee print after a watercolour by Peter Cushing - "Whitstable Harbour", a pocket sun dial and compass, four books signed by Peter Cushing, and a copy of "Peter Cushing - The Complete Memoirs", signed by the Executor. The hammer came down on £1,700. The items were sold on behalf of the Pilgrims Hospice, Canterbury, UK.

TROY HOWARTH REVIEWS: DR WHO AND THE DALEKS AND DALEKS INVASION EARTH 2150 AD WITH PCASUK GALLERY

In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess: I am not a science fiction buff, and I have never seen an episode of Dr. Who in its entirety.  I am also approaching these two films, clearly aimed at juvenile audiences, from the perspective of a somewhat cynical and adult perspective.  In short, I am not the “ideal” audience for these two pictures – but given that reviews should encompass all varying points of view, hopefully my perspective will not seem invalid.

Having dispensed with that, let us get down to brass tacks.  Dr. Who made a tremendous splash on UK audiences in the 1960s, initially with the distinguished actor William Hartnell cast in the title role.  The show was low on budget but big on ideas, and like so many programs of its era, it was in black and white.  When producer Joe Vigoda decided the time might be right to bring the good doctor to cinema screens, he knew it would be necessary to sweeten the pot by adding color – and widescreen photography.  Given that Hartnell’s name was unknown outside of the UK – and given that much could be said for the character of Dr. Who himself, who had yet to mushroom into an international “brand name” of sorts – it was decided that it would have to be sold on the basis of a bigger box office draw.  Vigoda was affiliated with producers Max J. Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky, the heads of Amicus Productions in the UK , and so the casting of Peter Cushing in the lead seemed a master stroke.

Cushing was already an established name on both side of “the pond,” and his presence would help to ensure that audiences would respond to the concept.  Screenwriting chores inevitably fell to Subotsky, a process expedited by the fact that Terry Nation, who created the series, was unavailable.  In addition to watering the material down so that it would be more suitable for the matinee crowd, Subotsky also altered the character of Dr. Who himself – in the series, he was an alien and a Time Lord, whereas in the film he’s a kindly old duffer and most definitely human.  The changes put Cushing firmly in “kooky old man” mode, which hardly shows him at his best.

The first of the film films, Dr. Who and the Daleks, was released in 1965 – with much of the same technical personnel carried over from another, vastly superior, Cushing-Amicus vehicle: The Skull.  The story deals with Dr. Who’s invention of a time travel device known as TARDIS, which enables one to be transported to any time frame, past or present, anywhere in the universe.  The plot is set in motion when the beau (Roy Castle, wearing thin early on and getting more and more irritating as the story unfolds) of Dr. Who’s granddaughter (Jennie Linden, previously terrorized in Hammer’s Nightmare, 1963) accidentally triggers the device, thus transporting them all – including Dr. Who’s younger granddaughter (Roberta Tovey) – to a remote future, wherein the world has been reduced to ashes and is lorded over by the power-hungry Daleks, a race of robots.

To his credit, director Gordon Flemyng does a decent job with a laughable screenplay.  The humor is flat and heavy handed, and Cushing’s absent minded professor routine is about as stale as stale can be, but the low budget production has some nice camerawork and is paced at a good clip.  The Techniscope framing is eye catching throughout, and some of the lighting (courtesy of John Wilcox) evokes the ornate, color-drenched aesthetic of Italian genre filmmaker Mario Bava.  Unfortunately, all the technical polish imaginable can only do so much to redeem such a hopelessly hokey enterprise as this.  There is zero suspense, the characters are flat and listless, and the whole thing is so relentlessly pitched at children that it seems virtually impossible for a more mature audience to get much out of it.  Cushing would normally present as something of an oasis in such a situation, but in this instance, even he falters.  To be fair to the actor, he played the character as written by Subotsky – as a sweet natured eccentric.  To be fair to the audience, however, this only serves to make the character tolerable in small doses – and with him at the center of so much of the action, he is ill equipped to fill the role of hero.  The supporting cast includes a number of actors (playing part of a tribe known as the "Thals," who are being oppressed by the power-hungry Daleks) who look embarrassed to be kitted out in ludicrous wigs and heavy eye liner, including Michael Coles, who would later reunite with Cushing on Hammer’s two modern day Dracula adventures: Dracula AD 1972 and The Satanic Rites of Dracula.

The film opened to withering reviews and big box office, so Amicus wasted no time lining up a sequel.  Cushing returned to play the lead once again, apparently on the understanding that he would only do it if they brought back Roberta Tovey to play his granddaughter.  And thus it came to be, Daleks' Invasion Earth: 2150 AD would emerge in 1966...

Here, Dr. Who is accompanied by his niece (Jill Curzon), granddaughter (Tovey) and a hapless Scotland Yard bobbie to the year 2150... for no real apparent purpose in particular.  Upon arrival, the group of time travelers discover that London is now a bombed out shell of its former glory, with a group of freedom fighters engaged in a desperate struggle against an alien force... which turns out to be those pesky Daleks.

Unlike many sequels, this one manages to improve upon its predecessor - but given the quality of what came before it, it seems to be more of a case of the filmmakers learning from their mistakes.  Flemyng is again in charge of direction, and again he makes good use of the 'scope format.  The canvas is larger this time, with more exterior shots and more ambitious matte and miniature work; alas, the quality of the FX is highly variable, ranging from the effective (some of the matte work is pretty well done) to the downright laughable (the Dalek spacecraft is plainly supported by strings).  Cushing is allowed to play things a little more low key this time, which is most definitely for the best.  It's still not a characterization that will ever rank among his more distinguished, but at least there isn't quite so much emphasis on his being a slightly dotty old duffer this time around.

The supporting cast is an improvement, as well.  Bernard Cribbins is far more engaging as the outsider roped into the plot compared to Roy Castle in the first film.  Cribbins had previously played opposite Cushing in Hammer's She (1964) and would go on to play the nasty bar man in Hitchcock's Frenzy (1972).  Tovey is plucky and engaging as the doctor's brainy grandchild, while Andrew Keir adds plenty of gusto as one of the freedom fighters.  Keir had already effectively subbed for Cushing as the gun toting Father Sandor in the Van Helsing-less Dracula Prince of Darkness (1965) and would later go on to replace the ailing thespian on Hammer's troubled Blood from the Mummy's Tomb (1971).  Philip Madoc, later to star in the superior British crime series A Mind for Murder, is also in good form as a mercenary whose lust for cash gets the better of him.

On the downside, the film is saddled with a horrendous score by Bill McGuffie.  McGuffie would later add an equally jarring lounge score to the tacky Cushing vehicle Corruption (1967), so clearly he did not make much improvement over time.  The first film had been scored by Malcolm Lockyer - who also provided the music for the Cushing sci-fi items Island of Terror (1965) and Night of the Big Heat (1967) - and his music, though not among his finest efforts, was far better suited to the material.  John Wilcox's classy photography adds as much gloss here as it had in the first film.

Sadly (or fortunately, depending on one's point of view), lighting did not strike twice.  The sequel garnered reviews every bit as dismal, but it failed to repeat the first film's box office performance.  Subotsky and company were ready and willing to push ahead with a third Dr. Who adventure, but it was ultimately decided that it was a case of diminishing returns, to plans to continue with the doctor's adventures were scuttled.  Given that the sequel improved on the first film in so many areas, it's not unreasonable to suppose that the third may have been better still... that's firmly in the realm of supposition, however, as we are left with only two vehicles for Cushing's Dr. Who.

Fans of the series have long dismissed the films for being too far removed from the mythos of the series, while other viewers may have a hard time relating to them on any level.  For matinee audiences of the 1960s, however, these were probably rip roaring entertainment - and Cushing can hardly be faulted for essaying the character as (re)conceived by Subotsky.  Fans of the actor will want to check these films out, and this is much more convenient to do now that they have emerged on DVD and Blu Ray in immaculate condition courtesy of Studio Canal.

ACID BATH HEAD: PETER CUSHING 'THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN' (1957)

The Curse of Frankenstein. Peter Cushing with the crow-pecked head from the gallows, ready for the acid bath and created by make up artist, Phil Leakey.

MAYBE THE GREATEST LINE IN THE HAMMER FILM 'FRANKENSTEIN' SERIES : PETER CUSHING 'FRANKENSTEIN MUST BE DESTROYED' (1969)