Hammer Horror Blogathon: Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell

“In my early teens, I went with groups of friends to go and see certain films. If we saw the logo of Hammer films we knew it was going to be a very special picture…a surprising experience, usually – and shocking.” - Martin Scorsese.

For me, the Hammer Frankenstein series is one of Hammer’s finest overall achievements. If its Dracula series degenerated into silliness (as enjoyable as some of the later entries were), its Frankenstein movies remained first-rate all the way through. I think the entries got stronger as the series went on, and how many movie series can say that?

Whereas the Universal Frankenstein had the monster as the connective tissue, the Hammer Frankenstein’s focused on the Baron himself and his attempts to create life. There is a mood of ineffable sadness to these films.  Countless lives are ruined as the Baron continues on his quest; he doesn’t care who he hurts to achieve his goals – the ends justify the means.

“Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell” (1973) was a last Hammer hurrah on several fronts: their seventh and last Frankenstein film; after six films, the last time Peter Cushing portrayed Baron Victor Frankenstein; the last Hammer film directed by Terence Fisher; the final screenplay by John Elder (pen name for producer Anthony Hinds).

“Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell” may not be the best in the series, but it’s a most effective Gothic chiller. It has the brilliant idea to put Baron Frankenstein where he belongs after a lifetime of attempting to re-animate corpses – in an asylum.

Still as lucid and cool as ever, Baron Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) may be an inmate but he’s practically running the place, thanks to his blackmailing of the asylum’s director (John Stratton), who likes to take liberties with the more comely of his female patients. Said director looks the other way as the Baron, doubling as the asylum’s doctor, dispenses medicine during the day but uses the asylum’s recently deceased to continue his experiments at night. In a nod to Burke and Hare, the Baron is not above killing an inmate or two to satisfy his need for fresh corpses.

When young doctor Simon Helder (Shane Briant) is sentenced to the asylum for experiments similar to Frankenstein’s, the Baron coaxes him to be his assistant in the surgery. Because the Baron’s hands were horribly burned at the end of the series’ previous, and best entry, “Frankenstein Must be Destroyed” (1969), Frankenstein guides Simon’s hands to put the brain of an insane violinist into the body of a hideous monster (Darth Vader himself, David Prowse).

(Cushing played the Baron six times. In 1970, Hammer re-booted the series with a younger Baron, Ralph Bates, in the ill-advised “Horror of Frankenstein.” It was dismal failure and the re-booting ended with that one film.  Even though it came between Destroyed and Monster from Hell, I don’t consider it part of the series).

The monster, now graced with intelligence, is only the latest in a series of failed experiments for the Baron, who only sees he has created life, but not the hideous monster he has created.

Prowse delivers a very good performance as the creature repulsed by his own hideousness, yet flooded with memories of his former life, love of music and yearning towards the beautiful mute girl Sarah (future Bond girl Madeline Smith), who aids the doctors.

It is a performance for which Prowse is justly proud. “Terry (Fisher) was a wonderful person to work with – sort of the doyen of the horror film. He was really a wonderful guy and gave me a lot of help and direction – unlike many who give you nothing at all except to have you just get on with it. The film probably gave me more satisfaction than any other I’ve done – including “Star Wars” (1977).”

If the Baron possesses a trace of humanity in him in the first film “The Curse of Frankenstein” (1957), his insatiable thirst for creating life is all-encompassing by the last film. Even when the monster is destroyed at the end, he is ready to start all over again, giving no more thought to his creations than we have on swatting a fly.

But there would be no more sequels, thanks to diminishing box office returns. Critical response to “Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell” was mixed, but after six films there was really no place else for the Baron to go, and if the taste for Gothic horror had dissipated over the years, it was pretty much decimated by the release that year of “The Exorcist.”

Still, there’s some potent imagery here. In addition to the dank asylum setting, the scene of the monster digging up graves in the asylum graveyard using a crucifix during a raging thunderstorm is a splendid piece of Gothic excess.

Speaking of excess, the surgery and brain transplanting scenes are pretty graphic, and helped garner the movie an R rating. The griminess of the asylum setting makes the scenes even more uncomfortable. Still, director Fisher is smart enough to cut away from the most gruesome parts.

Cushing was 60 years old when he made his last appearance as the Baron, but he still jumps on tables with the aplomb of Van Helsing in “Horror of Dracula” (1958). It’s obviously no stunt double as Cushing leaps onto a table and then onto the monster, knocking him out with a handkerchief full of chloroform before they both fall to the ground. Prowse remember it well: “When we were finished, everyone on the set just stood up and applauded. It was the first time I’d even seen anything like that! It was just great!”

The Monster from Hell exhibits probably the most extreme make-up of a creature in the Hammer Frankenstein’s, a design that was pre-sold on advertising materials and forced on director Fisher. “I disagreed with them from the start and tried my best to limit the makeup,” Fisher later said. “However, they had sold Paramount on the idea that the monster would be this grotesque hairy beast, so I could not make him human, but I reduced him as far as I could without ruining what they had sold it on.”

The film rarely strays beyond its asylum setting, a strong metaphor for the Baron’s state of mind by this time. Cushing’s Baron Frankenstein may be his powerful characterization. While his Van Helsing is one of the great vampire terminators of all time, that role doesn’t give him the depth the Baron offers. The final film is a suitable coda to a series showing an impassioned medical doctor vainly trying to create life in the laboratory, but degenerating over the course of six films into a heartless doctor whose humanity, ironically, has been crushed by the need to create yet another life form.

Peter Cushing’s Baron Frankenstein is a remarkable characterization in a fascinating series of films, a series that holds up remarkably well today.   

All quotations taken from Hammer Films, An Exhaustive Filmography by Tom Johnson and Deborah Del Vecchio, (McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 1996.):

It’s Hammer Time! For many of us, Halloween is not complete without a dose of Hammer Horror. This post is happily part of the Hammer Halloween Blogathon hosted by the Classic Film &; TV Cafe. Go here for the complete Blogathon schedule for lots of bloodthirsty reading:

http://www.classicfilmtvcafe.com/2013/09/coming-this-october-hammer-halloween.html.

The Devil Rides Out

It’s Hammer Time!

This year’s Halloween viewing was Hammer’s sensational “The Devil Rides Out” (1968), one of the greatest achievements from the famous British studio. It moves like a bullet, and segues from one marvelous set piece to another without catching a breath. In that respect, it’s one of the most contemporary of their films, and a splendid introduction to someone unfamiliar with Hammer’s legacy of horror.

Helmed by Hammer’s best director, Terence Fisher, and with a screenplay by famed fantasy writer Richard Matheson, adapting Dennis Wheatley’s best-selling novel, and ominous scoring by James Bernard, it’s Hammer operating at full thrusters, fully confident they are the best in the business and no one is going to tell them otherwise. Along with the great “Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed” (1969), it’s probably the studio’s last classic film, though there were quite a few good titles to come. But everything comes together in “The Devil Rides Out.”

While it’s not particularly scary, it is creepy, and possesses an unworldly aura about it. It’s also as much an adventure film as it is a horror epic. And as an added bonus, it’s set in England in the 1920s, so there’s marvelous period décor to look at and an assortment of beautiful automobiles with running boards,. Running boards come in very handy when one is trying to rescue a beautiful girl from a nighttime Satanic orgy in the forest. (I love running boards on old automobiles).

 

The Duc de Richleau (Christopher Lee, playing the hero for a change and very well too) meets his friend Rex Van Ryn (Rod Taylor look-a-like Leon Greene) to inform him their old friend Simon Aron (Patrick Mower) did not show up for a planned reunion. They go to Simon’s new country house just as a party is going on, filled with odd-looking people of various ages and nationalities, including the mysterious Mocata (plumy-voiced Charles Gray, oozing malevolence out of ever pore in what is arguably his best performance) and a beautiful girl, Tanith (Nike Arrighi), who Rex is instantly attracted to. .

Richleau suspects something is amiss and discovers that Simon has fallen into the hands of Satanists, headed by Mocata, who plans to baptize Simon and Tanith into their cult.

 

For the rest of the movie, Richleau and Rex attempt to keep Simon and Tanith out of Mocata’s clutches. Mocata doesn’t just dabble into the occult, but has supernatural powers, including the ability to affect the actions of other with his mind from far away, and the ability to conjure up all sorts of deviltry (literally) to stop our heroes.

Richleau and company go to the country estate of Richleau’s niece Marie (Sarah Lawson), her husband Paul (Richard Eaton) and their daughter Peggy (Rosalyn Landor), but Mocata follows them there. Rosalyn Landor turned down a role in “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” (1968) to do this film. Way to go Rosalyn! You made the right choice.

Mocata hypnotizes Marie to tell him where Simon and Tanith are, but is interrupted by Peggy. Marie snaps out of her trance and she orders Mocata out of their house. He says, “I shall not come back. But something will. Tonight. Something will come for Simon and the girl.” Gray delivers these lines with great relish.

With this message in mind, Richleau gathers Simon, Marie and Richard into a magic circle to protect themselves against Mocata’s messenger.

 

I said earlier that everything comes together in “The Devil Rides Out.” Well, maybe not everything. The special effects are sorely lacking, a charge even the film’s staunchest defenders agree with. It’s especially galling as they occur in what should be the highlight of the film, the aforementioned sequence with our heroes standing in a magic circle while the forces of Hell pummel them. On one hand, it’s a lost opportunity but the rest of the film is so strong, the mood and direction so sure, that one can overlook the shoddiness of the special effects.

And they are shoddy. One of Hell’s visitors is a tarantula, which is normal-sized in one scene and giant-sized in the next scene, then back to normal-sized. Most egregious is the appearance of the Messenger of Death on horseback, very badly matted in and with the horse moving backward and forward in fast motion. When Death is revealed, it’s against a black screen with nothing in the background. It’s almost as if they filmed these sequences last and ran out of money.

 

Much more effective in this sequence, are very simple, practical effects, like them hearing a pounding on the door, and Rex’s anguished pleases to be let in and, when refused by Richleau, the voice fades away into the ghostly distance.

In a 1975 issue of Cinefantastique Terence Fisher was astute enough to identify the film’s other main fault: “The love angle was very superficial. I don’t know why, probably my fault. The relationship between Nike Arrighi and Leon Greene never develops as it should have. The film would have been much stronger if it had. You see, it’s easy to put characters into a situation. It doesn’t matter whether it’s black magic or cops and robbers. It doesn’t matter a damn…but unless those characters have emotion in their interrelation with the situation they are put into, no audience in the world is going to be interested. The important thing is the emotional relationship they have, apart from the situation itself. And the worse the situation you put them into, the more excited the audience will become because they understand their feelings apart from what they are faced with.”

Fisher is right. Also missing is a scene explaining what attracted Tanith and Simon to Mocata’s coven in the first place. Even a short scene explaining their actions would have gone a long way to making us care about them.

 

“The Devil Rides Out” was based on a novel by Dennis Wheatley, one of England’s most successful novelists of the 20^th century. While he wrote in a variety of genres, it was his stories on the occult and black magic that were most popular. When it was published in 1934, “Goodbye Mr. Chips” and “Random Harvest” author James Hilton called “The Devil Rides Out” the best novel of its kind since “Dracula.”

Wheatley was considered an expert on the occult and his books are full of peeks into hidden rites and ceremonies. Each of his black magic books comes with this preamble:

 I desire to state that I, personally, have never assisted at, or participated in, any ceremony connected with Magic – Black or White.

The literature of occultism is so immense that any conscientious writer can obtain from it abundant material for the background of a romance such as this.

In the present case I have spared no pains to secure accuracy of detail from existing accounts when describing magical rites or formulas for protection against evil, and these have been verified in conversation with certain persons, sought out for that purpose who are actual practitioners of the Art.

All the characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary but, in the inquiry necessary to the writing of it, I found ample evidence that Black Magic is still practiced in London, and other cities, at the present day.

Should any of my readers incline to a serious study of the subject, and thus come into contact with a man or woman of Power, I find that it is only right to urge them, most strongly, to refrain from being drawn into practice of the Secret Art in any way. My own observations have led me to an absolute conviction that to do so would bring them into dangers of a very real and concrete nature – Dennis Wheatley

 

 

Christopher Lee had been friends with Wheatley and had tried to interest Hammer in his novels. “I had been at Hammer for quite a long time,” Lee  said. “There’s a writer I know very well and he sells all over the world in every language you’ve ever heard of – his books would be ideal. I thought Dennis’ black magic stories were incredibly exciting – not quite Gothic, but very close to it. Hammer were (sic) very worried for a long time because they thought the black magic elements would cause them problems with the Church. I couldn’t understand why, because Dennis’ stories were based on truth: evil against good, the power of darkness against the power of light. The power of light always won, and I couldn’t see how anybody in the Church could object to that. Obviously I would never have advocated showing anything which related to a black mass itself, which would have been an indescribably obscenity and blasphemy.” (Quote taken from the notes to the film’s soundtrack CD).

Lee later said that since the film came out, he has received many calls and letters, and been stopped in the street from representatives and leaders of every major religion, thanking him for making the movie, and showing the very real danger and consequences of getting involved in the occult.

(I remember an afternoon about 30 or 35 years ago at the Catholic church I attended growing up. In all those Sundays, we never heard any sermons about Hell or Satan, except one time, when the pastor related how a teenager in the parish had started experimenting with the occult, and how awful it’s been for him and his family. He asked for our prayers for the family, and admonished the young people in the parish to never, ever delve into the occult. He didn’t go into specifics, but I remember his voice trembling as he said that, and he had very real fear in his voice.)

Hammer filmed two more Wheatley books. His novel “Uncharted Seas” became the basis for the looney tunes, but hugely enjoyable “The Lost Continent” (1968) – think “Ship of Fools” with rubber suited monsters, big breasted women and the Spanish Inquisition. Really.

Hammer’s last horror film was another Wheatley adaptation, “To the Devil A Daughter” (1976) with Christopher Lee as a defrocked priest trying to lure Nastassia Kinski to become a Satanic bride. Richard Widmark was the hero this time, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but there. It’s one of Hammer’s weakest films.

While “The Devil Rides Out” did very well in England, where Wheatley was better known, it died in the States. It had the bad luck to open after George Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead” (1968) and no way could Hammer’s period horror compete with the new breed of zombies. 20^th Century Fox handled stateside distribution and didn’t like the title, thinking it sounded too much like a western. In the U.S. the title was changed to “The Devil’s Bride”, but it didn’t bring in the money Hammer thought it would.

 

 

There’s a new Blu Ray of the film from England, and supposedly Hammer cleaned up some of the effects and made them more effective. I can’t say I’m very happy about that, but if it must be done at least have the original version available. I find it interesting how technicians in years past overcame budgetary and technological obstacles, and don’t think that should be erased just because it can be done better today.

Regardless, “The Devil Rides Out” continues to enthrall. Its pace is very contemporary and it’s time trickery ending would not be out of place in today’s cinema scene.

It’s funny how superstitions work on us. I consider myself pretty enlightened, and don’t believe in ghosts, or communicating with the dead. Yet, I wouldn’t attend a séance or play with a Ouija board for all the money in the world. I know, I can’t explain it either. I have zero interest in dabbling in the occult. But I will watch movies on the subject as long as they are as enthralling as “The Devil Rides Out.”

Never Take Candy From a Stranger

It’s Hammer Time! England’s Hammer Studios is best known for their output of Gothic horror movies, involving Dracula, Dr. Frankenstein and various mummies, werewolves, zombies, and even a reptile woman.

But Hammer made all kinds of movies, and in 1959 they courageously made a film about the greatest monster of all, a child molester. Heady stuff for 1959 and heady material even today.

The film, “Never Take Sweets From a Stranger” (and released in the U.S. in 1960 as “Never Take Candy From a Stranger”) holds up exceptionally well. Unseen for years, this could be one of the most controversial entries in Hammer’s filmography. The film caused considerable angst when it was first released, but time has been very kind to it. It’s gripping viewing today and handles a very touchy subject in a non-exploitative manner. Fortunately, director Cyril Frankel doesn’t give us any scenes of abuse, instead giving us a remarkably frank and tasteful treatment of material that avoids the salacious.

The films opens with two young girls Jean (Janina Faye) and Lucille (Frances Green) playing on a swing. Someone is watching them from a house in the distance. Lucille says she knows where they can get some candy and off they go.

Jean is the daughter of the new small town school principal Peter Carter (Patrick Allen) and wife Sally (Gwen Watford), recently arrived to Canada from England. Jean innocently tells her parents about the house they visited where an old man gave them candy and then asked them to take their clothes off and dance for him.

Understandably upset, the parents learn said old man is Clarence Olderberry Sr. (Felix Aylmer). The Olderberrys are the town’s leading citizens, its founder and principal employer.

Their campaign to bring charges against the elder Olderberry is thwarted by the local police who prefer to turn a blind eye, and by other parents, who don’t want to rock the boat.

Even though the film was one of Hammer’s least commercially successful films, its subject matter naturally generated much controversy.

According to Hammer Films, An Exhaustive Filmography, by Tom Johnson and Deborah Del Vecchio (McFarland & Company, 1996), the film was endorsed by the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, who said, “The producers are to be congratulated on their objective presentation.”

The National League of Decency also supported the picture: “This is a perennial social problem treated with moral caution and without sensationalism.”

On the flip side the London Times said, “It must be condemned as a film that never should have been made.”

Films and Filming really took Hammer to task, writing, “A smart production veneer might fool people into thinking that here is a wholly adult film concerned with social and moral problems. It isn’t! In years to come, film historians will no doubt be able to logically explain the success of this company dealing only with the lurid and the loathsome.”

Despite its lack of vampires and other monsters, there are many familiar Hammer friends on hand. This was the first Hammer assignment for cinematographer Freddie Francis. Quite a coup for Hammer, as Francis would win his first Academy Award in 1960 for “Sons and Lovers.” Francis had ambitions to direct, which was quenched by both Hammer and rival studio Amicus in a remarkable series of horror films, including Hammer’s classic “Dracula Has Risen From the Grave” (1968), one of the most beautiful – yes, beautiful – horror movies ever made.

Little Janina Faye, so memorable as Tania in Hammer’s classic “Horror of Dracula” (1958) is very good as the bewildered Jean.

Gwen Watford is perhaps best known to Hammer fans as Geoffrey Keen’s oppressed wife in “Taste the Blood of Dracula” (1970) and her mother’s anguish on display here is one of the film’s strengths.

Patrick Allen makes a stalwart father figure, bewildered by a village that doesn’t seem to care there’s a monster living among them. He’s also good in Hammer’s mystery swashbuckler adventure film “Night Creatures” (1962). He only made two films for Hammer, but he went two for two for the studio.

Fans of Harryhausen’s “Jason and the Argonauts” (1963) will be amused to see Hermes (Michael Gwynn) and Zeus (Niall MacGinnis) fight it out here in the courtroom as opposing counsel.

And then there’s Felix Aylmer. When I think of Felix Aylmer I think of his Isaac of York in M-G-M’s wonderful “Ivanhoe” (1952) and as Peter Cushing’s archaeologist father in Hammer’s “The Mummy” (1959). But now I may have to add his Clarence Olderberry Sr. to the list. Aylmer doesn’t speak a word throughout, but it’s still a great performance. He’s borderline senile but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. Great body language on display here as Aylmer makes him pitiable and loathsome at the same time.

One scene involving Aylmer may be one of the most chilling in Hammer’s history. Towards the end of the movie, Jean and Lucille are riding their bikes in the woods when they spot a house. Naturally curious they go to explore when they see Olderberry coming towards them. Screaming they run away with Olderberry in pursuit. They spot a rowboat in the lake and get in it and begin rowing frantically to the middle of the lake. Unknown to them, the boat is still tied to the dock. Olderberg reaches down to the rope and slowly begins to pull the boat back towards the dock…..

It’s a chilling scene, and the film is as much an indictment of people’s indifference to what’s going on around them as it is Olderberry himself.

The film is a precursor to material that would be tackled on later in the decade and beyond. I wonder if the London Times and Films and Filming would later change their minds about the film?

In 1961, movie audiences were treated to “The Mark”, a really remarkable film starring Stuart Whitman as a convicted child molester who desperately tries to get cured with the help of psychiatrist Rod Steiger. Very rarely shown today, that’s a shame as it also treats its distasteful matter in an adult and non-sensationalistic manner. Stuart Whitman gives an Academy Award-caliber performance here. Any list of criminally underrated performances should include Whitman’s performance.

And any list of underrated films should include Hammer’s “Never Take Candy From a Stranger.” It may have lost money for the studio, but they have every right to be proud of this remarkable little film. Besides, Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee were always around to pick up the slack for them.

“Never Take Candy From a Stranger” is the second of six films I’ve watched in the DVD collection titled “The Icons of Suspense Collection: Hammer Films.” Wonderful transfers of wonderful films. Four more to go and I can’t wait to watch them. Looking forward to Joseph Losey’s “These Are the Damned” (1961), one of the most remarkable science fiction films of the 1960s.

Cash on Demand

It’s Hammer Time!

Those of us who bemoan Peter Cushing never played Ebenezer Scrooge can take solace in “Cash on Demand” (1961), a first-rate suspense melodrama from the famed English film company.

Set on December 23, Cushing plays Fordyce, a most Scrooge-like bank executive and a notorious stickler for detail and order. He dresses down one of his long-time tellers Pearson (Richard Vernon) for a minor mistake and threatens him with termination. No holiday cheer at this bank in the English provinces, and certainly no time for office chit chat or small talk with the staff.

That morning an examiner for the bank’s insurance company shows up. The smartly dressed Hepburn (Andre Morell) is there to check on the bank’s security system and to make sure everything is on the up and up.

Once alone with Fordyce in his office, Hepburn springs into action. He’s not checking on security but plans to rob the bank with Fordyce’s help. An accomplice has Fordyce’s wife and child held hostage at their home and Hepburn threatens to have them killed if Fordyce doesn’t help rob the bank by a certain time frame.

“Cash on Demand” is based on a play, and it shows somewhat, but it doesn’t seem to matter when performances of this caliber are on display. Both Cushing and Morell are absolutely at the top of their game as we witness the suave and very confident Hepburn toying with the continually battered emotions of the uptight and distraught Fordyce.

The film is only 80 minutes long and there’s not a wasted scene or moment. It’s a terrific suspense movie with no big set pieces, just the mounting tension as the clock winds down.

This is one of Peter Cushing’s very best performances and it’s too bad he never got to play Scrooge. Seen here, one can easily imagine him taking the role on and doing a marvelous job with it.

The dependable Andre Morell is always a pleasure to watch (he’s one of the screen’s best Dr. Watsons) but this is also a standout performance. It’s ironic that these two Hammer mainstays gave among their best performances in a film that was very hard to see until it was released on DVD. One early Hammer book even listed “Cash on Demand” as missing. There were poor VHS dupes floating around in the bootleg market, which didn’t do the film justice.

Earlier this year, the fine folks at Sony Home Video released their latest volume of Hammer offerings in a new collection called “Icons of Suspense: Hammer Films”, six hard to see films including “Cash on Demand.” I have yet to watch the other films, but the set is worth it alone for “Cash on Demand.” I’m greatly looking forward to the other films in the set.

It’s too bad Hammer never made a version of “A Christmas Carol.” A friend of mine came up with having Peter Cushing as Scrooge, Christopher Lee as the three Christmas ghosts and Michael Ripper as Bob Cratchit.

I’ll expand on that: Peter Cushing as Scrooge; Christopher Lee as Jacob Marley; Michael Ripper as Bob Cratchit; Barbara Shelley as Mrs. Cratchit; Francis Matthews as Fred, Scrooge’s nephew; Veronica Carlson as Fred’s wife; Martita Hunt as the Ghost of Christmas Past; Andrew Kier as the Ghost of Christmas Present.

Andre Morell would have to be worked in somewhere, perhaps one of the chaps who asks Scrooge to make a charitable donation to the city’s orphanages.

Sigh. What a wonder it would have been. At least we have “Cash on Demand” to quench the demand of a Christmas movie done Hammer-style.

The Mummy (1959)

It’s Hammer Time.

Hammer’s first mummy movie, titled simply “The Mummy” (1959), is a real treat, and one of the famed British studio’s best films.

I decided to re-visit this favorite after I got the new issue of Little Shoppe of Horrors, a magazine devoted to Hammer movies. The new issue looks at the making of all the Hammer mummy movies. I continue to be amazed, and delighted, that a magazine exists devoted to Hammer movies. Twenty years from now will there be a magazine devoted to Jerry Bruckheimer movies? I seriously doubt it and if there was, then I think it would be time for God to pull the plug on all of us. (The question if there will even be magazines in 20 years is a question for another day).

Hammer enjoyed worldwide success and broke box office records worldwide with their monster re-treads “The Curse of Frankenstein” (1957) and “Horror of Dracula” (1958). Both films starred Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee and were directed by Terence Fisher.

Universal, the great horror movie studio of the 1930s and 1940s, knew a good thing when they saw it and offered up their other past properties for remaking. The next property was “The Mummy” a semi-official remake of the 1932 Boris Karloff classic, and elements from the B movie Kharis series starring Lon Chaney Jr. as the slowest mummy in movie history. As Bill Cosby famously said about these movies, “If you can’t outrun the mummy, you deserve to die.”

For “The Mummy” Cushing and Lee were re-united, along with director Fisher, ace cinematographer Jack Asher and production designer Bernard Robinson, who always made the Hammer movies look more expensive than they were. Regular Hammer composer James Bernard did not return for “The Mummy”, instead replaced by Franz Reizenstein, and it’s one of the film’s happy accidents that Reizenstein’s score accompanies the film. Christopher Lee feels it’s the best score composed for a Hammer movie, and I agree.

Felix Aylmer and Peter Cushing play, respectively Stephen and John Banning, archaeologists looking for the tomb of the Princess Ananka. They discover the tomb, but John doesn’t enter, due to a bad leg. Stephen goes in and accidentally reads from the Scroll of Life, which brings to life the mummy Kharis (Christopher Lee). (A flashback to Ancient Egypt shows Kharis as a priest committing the blasphemous act of using the Scroll of Life to revive his beloved dead Princess Ananka. His punishment was having his tongue cut out, being buried alive in her tomb and serving as her protector for all eternity.)

Shipping the tomb’s contents back to England, the Bannings are followed by Mehment Bay (George Pastell, a terrific performance) who uses the revived mummy to stalk and kill the defilers of Ananka’s tomb. No lumbering Chaney Kharis here, but a fast moving, unstoppable instrument of death. In one of the film’s best scenes, Kharis breaks through the bars and screen of a sanitarium’s window to get at Stephen Banning, who pounds and screams furiously at the door trying to escape.

Eventually, Cushing’s John Banning is the last of the expedition’s members to still be alive, but he’s temporarily saved thanks to wife Isobel (Yvonne Furneaux) who eerily resembles Ananka. Is Isobel the reincarnation of Ananka?

This is a gorgeously shot film, one of Hammer’s most beautiful. The tomb scenes have an eerie green glow to them, and the swamp scenes look like there’s red glowing coals emanating from the marsh grounds. Not sure where the light is coming from but it doesn’t matter. In horror movies I’ll take atmosphere over logic any day of the week and “The Mummy” is drenched in atmosphere.

Lee gives a very good physical performance as Kharis. There’s terrific use of his body and eyes in his scenes when he’s staring at his reincarnated Princess. Cushing, of course, is marvelous, as he always is. Watching Cushing and Lee grapple together in a Hammer Gothic is like watching Fred and Ginger dance…all is happily right with the world.

For a horror film, one of the film’s best scenes is not one of terror but a long dialogue scene between Cushing and George Pastell. Both know what each other’s motives are when Cushing comes to call on the new Egyptian who moved down the road. They feel each other out and soon begin to spar about England’s legitimacy in looting Egypt of its archaeological treasures. Beautifully acted and filled with tension, it really shows off Terence Fisher’s strength as a director. (His other masterpiece, “The Devil Rides Out” (1967), has a similar scene).

But nothing can compare to Kharis’ first attack on the Banning mansion. Kharis smashes through the windows and is unstopped by Banning’s shotgun blasts and skewering by a harpoon. Reizenstein’s music is gloriously all out here, filled with pounding intensity and booming chords. Kharis disarms Banning and begins to strangle him, when Isobel enters the room and screams. Kharis looks at her and Reizenstein’s evocative main theme kicks in, redolent of all things Ancient Egypt. With this piece of music, we know Kharis is looking at the visage of his beloved Princess. The whole sequence is a wonderful textbook example of how effective good film music can be.

According to the Little Shoppe of Horrors, “The Mummy” played in the United States on a double feature with Universal’s odd vampire western “Curse of the Undead (1959). If I was a kid back then and knew that double feature was coming, I would have been unable to sleep for weeks. “Curse of the Undead” has a lot wrong with it, but not the poster. It’s one of my all time favorite posters. Isn’t this stunning?

Hammer followed with other mummy movies with middling success, but none to match the timeless appeal of their first one. It’s one of the best films from the studio and one of the great Gothic horror masterpieces of all time. A wonderful movie.

Seven Days to Noon

“Seven Days to Noon” (1950) is one of the best thrillers I’ve seen in a long time. Watching it, I couldn’t help but wonder if Alfred Hitchcock saw it and used elements of it for his future movies.

Directed by twin brothers Roy and John Boulton, the British-made “Seven Days to Noon” relates what happens when one of England’s leading nuclear scientists, Professor Willingdon (Barry Jones) steals a small nuclear device and threatens to blow up London in seven days if the country continues to stockpile nuclear weapons.

Andre Morell plays Scotland Yard Superintendent Folland, who is assigned to track down Willingdon. He brings in Willingdon’s assistant Steve Lane (Hugh Cross) and daughter Ann (Sheila Manahan) to help track him down. As the deadline approaches and Willingdon is still at large, orders are given to evacuate London, not only of its people, but of its national treasures, artwork, etc.

The scenes of London’s evacuation are very well done and realistic, and the many acknowledgements at the beginning thanking the people and government of London for their cooperation are well earned.

It’s interesting that the opening credits don’t include any cast members, though all technical credits are shown. It’s like the Boultons didn’t want the audience to notice the actors, but instead concentrate on the story.

Composer John Addison’s title music is very scherzo-like and somewhat reminiscent of Bernard Herrmann’s “North by Northwest” (1959) title music, and when it accompanies opening scenes of busy Londoners hurrying to and fro, you can’t help but think of the opening of “North by Northwest.”

Another Hitchcock connection. For years, it’s been reported that the first time movie audiences saw a toilet flush on-screen was in “Psycho” (1960). It could be true, though I’m always leery of any movie claiming to be the first of anything. Still I was somewhat surprised to hear an audible toilet flush during a scene where the British Army is coordinating house to house searches throughout London. One solider is seen standing in the hallway of a house until another soldier opens a door and you hear a toilet flushing in the background as he emerges. He says something like, “No one in there” and they go off to search the rest of the house. Today I wouldn’t bat an eye, but seeing it in a 1950 movie is a bit jarring.

“Seven Days to Noon” has special resonance for fans of Hammer horror films. Andre Morell was a well-loved actor in quite a few of Hammer best films, including “Plague of the Zombies” (1966), “The Mummy’s Shroud” (1967) and one of the best Dr. Watsons ever, in Hammer’s “The Hound of the Baskervilles” (1959). Here, he’s the ideal Scotland Yard superintendent, cool and calm under the most difficult of circumstances.

Composer James Bernard, who wrote so many memorable scores for many a Hammer movie, came up with the story idea with real-life companion Paul Dehn. Bernard and Dehn won an Academy Award in 1950 for Best Writing – Motion Picture Story. Dehn was a terrific screenwriter, with most of the “Planet of the Apes” sequels (either story or screenplay), the exemplary “Murder on the Orient Express” (1974) and “Goldfinger” to his credits. For the latter, I’ve always found it amusing that one of the greatest heterosexual fantasy movies of all time was co-written by a gay man.

The film runs a crisp 94 minutes and the suspense begins immediately with Willingford’s letter being delivered to 10 Downing Street and doesn’t let up from there. The black and white photography gives the movie a strong documentary-like feel and the scenes of the near empty London streets are very chilling. It’s easy to see why this movie wowed critics and audiences back in 1950. It holds up very well today.

Dracula A.D. 1972

It’s Hammer Time.

I watched “Dracula A.D. 1972” (1972, naturally) the other night and, while recognizing its faults, thoroughly enjoyed myself. When I first saw it 20-some years ago I didn’t care for it at all, and hated the “mod” aspects that Hammer brought to their Dracula films.

Now it’s almost like a period film, with the 1970s music, fashions and slang seeming almost as antiquated as the Victorian-era costumes and manners of Hammer’s earlier Dracula films.

“Dracula A.D. 1972” opens with a poorly staged and photographed prologue showing a runaway coach and fight scene between Dracula (Christopher Lee) and his nemesis Van Helsing (Peter Cushing). Dracula is impaled by a broken coach wheel and disintegrates into dust.

One hundred years later Dracula is revived by a disciple Johnny Alucard (dig that groovy spelling kids) during a black mass at an unconsecrated church. The resurrection scene here is very effective. Director Alan Gibson doesn’t skimp on the chills here. While not possessing large budgets, Hammer always made their films look good, and the abandoned church and fog-drenched graveyard adjacent to it is a marvelously atmospheric set.

At this point, the film picks up here to its credit and detriment.

Credit: Dracula starts biting members of the group that resurrected him. Scotland Yard calls in Professor Van Helsing (Cushing again) because he has helped them before on a case involving the occult, and Van Helsing’s granddaughter Jessica (Stephanie Beacham) knew the victims. Unknown to her grandfather, Jessica had been at the ceremony but fled in terror.

Detriment: Unfortunately Hammer wanted to keep the Gothic continuity of its previous films, so kept Dracula confined to the church and graveyard. Hammer was happy to bring him to 1972 but only so far. He may as well be stuck in the 1870s for all that he interacts here with modern London. This was a fatal mistake on the part of the film makers. Producer Michael Carreras takes the blame here.

Credit: Dracula’s first victim is Laura (Caroline Munro, in her first large role) and I was sorry to see her go so soon. Like many guys my age, Caroline Munro was a particular favorite growing up. She’s quite good here, and her reactions to Dracula approaching her in the church are very effective. No bimbo acting style her, her tears and cries for help seem very real. It’s too bad she didn’t stick around longer through the movie, it would have been better for it. (If Hammer knew how popular she would become, she probably would have.)

I’ve met Caroline Munro twice at conventions and a nicer celebrity I’ve never met. She’s a welcome presence in any film and I only wish she had more scenes in “Dracula A.D. 1972.”

Detriment: Christopher Lee didn’t care for the Dracula films that Hammer forced him to make and watching them, one completely understands where he’s coming from. Here he’s given hardly anything to do, sporting little dialogue, snarling his lines and being easily dispatched. By staying confined to one set, he’s hardly the Vampire King.

Credit: Peter Cushing is, as always, remarkable. He likely knows what a piece of junk he’s in, but you’d never know it from his performance here. Never condescending to the material, he gives it all he has. It’s a pleasure to hear him detail the vampire lore he possesses. Always a very physical actor, Cushing engages in fight and chase scenes with the energy of a man several decades younger.

The film’s biggest detriment is the opening society party scene, crashed by Johnny Alucard and his friends who dance to the music of Stoneground. This party scene is interminable, and goes on for what seems like days.

One year later, Warner Bros. would release “The Exorcist” and forever change the face of horror films. Entertaining romps like “Dracula A.D. 1972” to enjoy on a Saturday night out would soon be history.

There’s a lot wrong with “Dracula A.D. 1972” but a lot to like, especially the Cushing performance and the pulp-like narrative. I’ll probably watch it again sooner than more lauded classics. It’s that kind of movie.

The Devil-Ship Pirates

It’s Hammer Time!

“The Devil-Ship Pirates” (1964) has a most intriguing scenario for a swashbuckler. After the Spanish Armada is defeated, a lone battered, beaten Spanish galleon finds itself awash on an isolated portion of the English coast. While the crew attempts to repair the ship, the Spanish captain and his officers convince the nearby villagers that England has been defeated by the Spanish and they are now an occupied nation. They order the villagers to help repair the ship, which needs to be done in four days so they can sail on the next tide. They need to keep the ruse up for those four days before the villagers discover the truth. It’s like “Mission: Impossible” Elizabethan style.

It’s no world-beater, but I had an enjoyable time watching “The Devil-Ship Pirates.” It packs a lot of story and incident in its 85-minute running time.

Despite its limited budget, Hammer Studios could make its films appear a little more lavish than they are. So what that 99 percent of a pirate movie takes place on dry land? There’s still plenty of action to be had.

Christopher Lee took a break from scaring audiences and appears in good form as the supremely arrogant captain of the Spanish ship. I’ve always enjoyed Lee in his swashbuckling appearances. He wears costumes well and fences with great skill. From doing battle with Errol Flynn in “The Warriors” (1955) through his marvelous Rochefort in “The Three Musketeers” (1973) and “The Four Musketeers” (1974), and the various mid-level Hammer swashbucklers in between, Christopher Lee with sword in hand is always good for an entertaining time.

Other familiar faces from Hammer films show up, including Andrew Keir and Suzan Farmer, who would co-star with Lee a year later in “Dracula, Prince of Darkness” and Michael Ripper, co-star of far too many Hammer films to mention.

An actor named John Cairney appears as one of the villagers, the blacksmith who is not going to accept Spanish tyranny under any circumstances. His left arm is crippled but he has enough strength in his right arm to effectively wield a weapon – whatever is handy - against the Spanish. Cairney’s voice and appearance were familiar to me, but I couldn’t place him. Then about halfway through it dawned on me. He played Hylas in “Jason and the Argonauts” (1963). Some actors can claim awards or starring in a top-grossing film, but to star in a Hammer and a Harryhausen one year apart is worth about a dozen prizes.

Director Don Sharp keeps things flowing nicely, though the film does suffer from the typical Hammer failing of having its English actors speak in their normal voices, whatever the role. Here, the Spanish sailors sound like they’ve come from an audition of “Alfie.” The only way to tell the Spanish apart from the English is the Spanish sailors wear darkened skin make-up.

But that’s part of the fun of Hammer movies. You could have a Dracula flick set in Transylvania or Baron Frankenstein carving up dead bodies in Central Europe, and you still have everyone sound like they’re from the South of London.

The DVD wide-screen transfer, on a disc with three other Hammer adventure films, is a real treat. Such bright and vibrant colors! How come we can’t have color like that in movies today?

I have “The Pirates of Blood River” (1962), “The Terror of the Tongs” (1961), both starring Christopher Lee, and “The Stranglers of Bombay” (1960) (thuggees and Kali worshippers) to look forward to. Good stuff. As Charlie Brown would say, “Happiness is a Hammer movie.”