Press Book Collection - Scream and Scream Again (1970)

 

Guest Review - Dracula (1958) - The 2012 Restoration

Dir: TERENCE FISHER
Country: UK

AKA:
Horror of Dracula

A long time ago I watched a horror movie on television. I had seen a few horrors before and was beginning to develop a preference for the genre. There seemed to be one on every Friday night and occasionally if you were really lucky a double bill. It wasn’t long before one such Friday Fight Feature on Night Time TV was Hammer’s production of Dracula starring Peter Cushing as a dashing, determined, younger Van Helsing and Christopher Lee as a full-blooded and sexually charged Count Dracula. It was directed by Terence Fisher who is now rightly regarded as an auteur. The only detraction to this stunning production it seems has been the passage of time. The colour fading, and dulling of light which can often hide the detail in a film recorded originally with an emphasis on set design and colour photography. As well as a deterioration of the sound quality through regular cinema screenings and copies of copies made for distribution around the world. General ageing and wear and tear have all played a part in lessening the impact of a once vibrant and visceral rendering.

Guest Review - Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972)

Dir: ALAN GIBSON

Country: UK

This film desperately needs to be restored and transferred to the digital medium. I have the DVDs which are to my mind in the wrong ratio and the colour is fading. And I completely accept that Christopher Lee had less and less to do as the films went on. All this said; I think that attempting to remake the 1958 Dracula would have been an even greater folly. Aside from an attempt to put the novel on screen, which would have been a great idea, it makes perfect sense to me to keep the Count in the shadows and build up gradually to his appearance. To focus on the other characters and allow the audience to get to know them, to care for them and to allow the audience to get involved. So that when they finally meet their peril it is more disturbing. By the time the final ‘period’ movie of the Dracula series Scars of Dracula was released in 1970 most of the possible scenarios had been played out. A new direction, setting and indeed drive was sought to re-vamp the vamp. And so in the early 70’s Hammer decided to move their Dracula movie cycle from the 19^th Century villages of Europe to the swinging London of the 20^th.

Corruption (1968)

Dir: ROBERT HARTFORD-DAVIS
Country: UK

AKA:
Carnage
Laser Killer

The semi-obscure 1968 British horror film Corruption belongs to a small, but strangely pervasive, cycle of horror movies that explore the subject of plastic surgery. The film that kick started this trend was Georges Franju’s beautifully composed art/horror hybrid Eyes Without a Face (1960). Franju’s excellent and troubling production was marked by a formal precision that mirrored the cut of Dr. Génnesier’s scalpel; but even so Franju’s film was still marketed as an exploitation picture in the US where it was released under the unforgivable title of The Horror Chamber of Dr. Faustus. The influence of the film however was quite notable; the prolific Spaniard Jess Franco quickly recycled the themes in his surprisingly tight and atmospheric The Awful Dr. Orloff (1962), returned to them in several sequels, and capped of his interest in cosmetic surgery with the indifferent Faceless (1988). The Italian horror/science-fiction picture Atom Age Vampire (1963) was equally unexceptional, though it did give Mario Bava an opportunity to hone his skills as a producer. Other interesting examples such as Circus of Horrors (1960) and The Blood Rose (1969) took the device of plastic surgery down intriguing avenues; the former for example saw Anton Diffring play a typically cold and implacable surgical genius, who uses his gifts to extort, blackmail and control people under the canopy of the big top. More recently another Spaniard Pedro Almodóvar returned to the topic and bridged the art house gap with Eyes Without a Face with his considerably more tedious entry The Skin I Live In (2011).

Tales from the Crypt (1972)

Dir: FREDDIE FRANCIS
Country: UK

Like most horror anthologies the Amicus production Tales from the Crypt is a patchy and uneven affair; at times sublime and highly entertaining, at others rushed, predictable, and unsatisfying. This hasn’t stopped it becoming the most immediately recognised of their numerous portmanteau movies, a situation no doubt aided by the films tremendous commercial success. My personal favourite will forever remain The House that Dripped Blood (1971) for its blend of comedy, self-referential satire, effective scares, and the stylish and intelligent direction of Peter Duffell. Duffell clearly impressed Milton Subotsky and Max J. Rosenberg for he was offered the job of directing Tales from the Crypt, but he chose to turn it down. So they turned to Freddie Francis, a safe but dull pair of hands, a man capable of churning out serviceable genre movies, but ones almost entirely lacking in inspiration. Fortunately the decision to turn to the gore soaked pages of EC Comics offset this somewhat. Writers such as Johnny Craig, Al Feldstein, and William M. Gaines excelled at creating short sharp morality plays overflowing with poetic irony, black humour, and disreputable characters. EC Comics still had a whiff of scandal attached to them, and one must credit Subotsky for toning down the savagery, without compromising the overall message of each story.

Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1974)

Dir: TERENCE FISHER
Country: UK

Although To the Devil - A Daughter (1976) officially marked the end of Hammer’s first cycle of horror film production, it is Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell, made two years before, that has the more genuine feel of a concluding statement. It was the final example of Hammer’s archetypal brand of gothic Victoriana (though Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires [1974] would transplant these trappings to an East Asian milieu later the same year), it was also the final film directed by the legendary Terence Fisher, who was one of the key architects of Hammer’s distinctive visual style, and it features the final adventure of one of the companies most enduring characters; Baron Frankenstein. But the film also has an ambience and an attitude of finality. It possesses a pitch black streak of cynicism, and indeed an equally bleak sense of humour. Frankenstein might conclude the film making positive pronouncements about embarking on his next experiment, but this is unable to disguise the ultimate pointlessness of the Baron’s endeavours. In each of the Baron’s previous adventures he found himself increasingly marginalised - by society, politics, and the scientific community. It seems somewhat fitting then at the end that we find him operating out of an insane asylum. His previous status as inmate is soon forgotten, and with the asylum director firmly blackmailed into submission, the Baron is able to continue his experiments using the incarcerated human fodder at his disposal.

Frankenstein Created Woman (1967)

Dir: TERENCE FISHER
Country: UK

Hammer’s fourth Frankenstein adventure is a significant improvement over the previous entry - the lacklustre and feeble The Evil of Frankenstein (1964). One possible reason for the shabbiness of that film might be the insipid and blatantly imitative direction of Freddie Francis. Without a doubt Francis was an accomplished cinematographer, but his skills as a director were less impressive. Fortunately for Frankenstein Created Woman (one of the silliest and most inappropriate titles for a film) Terence Fisher was invited back to the series. It had been nine years since Fisher had last had the pleasure of the Baron’s company, and his comfort with the material is obvious from the assured confidence of the direction and his eye for striking visual compositions. This is despite the fact that Fisher is working with, by the standards of Hammer, an incredibly offbeat and outlandish screenplay courtesy of Anthony Hinds. Hinds implements a number of important changes that make this an altogether unique entry in the series.

She (1965)

Dir: ROBERT DAY
Country: UK

First serialised in 1886 H. Rider Haggard’s exotic fantasy adventure She provided just the right ingredients for the early pioneers of silent cinema. Adaptations of the durable tale appeared in 1908, 1911, 1916, 1917 and 1926. RKO raised the bar considerably in 1935 with a lavish version of the tale which cast Helen Gahagan as the eponymous immortal and Randolph Scott as Leo Vincey. This rendering still remains the most impressive thanks to excellent sets, costumes and optical effects. Thirty years later Hammer Film Productions were attempting to diversify their output further, and Haggard’s source material provided the company with the possibility to develop a strain of lost world/prehistoric adventure films. In 1965 Hammer were enjoying one of their most lucrative periods, and the evidence of this is illustrated by the increased budget and epic scale afforded to She. But this is Hammer’s interpretation of the word ‘epic’ and despite shooting in cinemascope the film never quite reaches the grandeur of the 1935 film, nor does it do full justice to the rich imagery of Haggard’s novel. But perhaps the greatest failing of David T. Chantler’s screenplay is that for large periods of the film very little happens. This has to be one of the most limp and lifeless epic adventures of all time; in short She is a crashing bore.

The Creeping Flesh (1973)

Dir: FREDDIE FRANCIS
Country: UK

The patchy and uneven directorial career of Freddie Francis sits in stark contrast to his career as a cinematographer. Francis the director worked almost exclusively in the horror genre and constantly struggled to stretch his poverty row budgets too accommodate typically overambitious projects. Nevertheless Francis still managed to infuse his horror projects with visual panache and stylistic energy. Although Francis helmed a number of popular British horror films, it was extremely rare that he would push the boundaries of the genre. In my view he managed this on just two occasions. The brilliant and often surreal The Skull (1965) showed evidence of a purely cinematic form of storytelling to which Francis was well suited, and Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny & Girly (1970) stands out in Francis’ filmography for its peculiar eccentricities and weird offbeat tone. In 1973 Francis saw his nineteenth feature film released and there was a certain inevitability about him making a picture for Tigon. Tigon were known for a slightly off kilter approach to their horror productions, so it was something of a surprise that Francis was invited to direct The Creeping Flesh, which is easily Tigon’s most rigorous attempt to imitate Hammer’s brand of gothic horror.

Torture Garden (1967)

Dir: FREDDIE FRANCIS
Country: UK

After the resounding success of their first portmanteau horror film Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors (1965) it was inevitable that Max J. Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky would initiate a second. In the meantime Amicus had produced eight single narrative films with varying degrees of success. The commercial high point of this two year period was without a doubt Dr. Who and the Daleks (1965) and Daleks’ Invasion Earth: 2150 AD (1966). But in terms of creativity Amicus hit a home run with the peculiar contemporary set gothic chiller The Skull (1965). The short story that formed the basis of this distinctive film was written by Robert Bloch, and it was to his short stories that Amicus would turn for their second anthology Torture Garden. This time Subotsky took a back seat with regards to the writing and allowed Bloch the opportunity to adapt his own stories. One of the weaknesses of Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors was the clichéd nature of Subotsky’s screenplay, the stories themselves were highly predictable, but the movie was saved by an ingenious framing narrative. Although Torture Garden has aged very badly (it is easily amongst the weakest of Amicus’ anthologies) the stories themselves do at least possess a certain off kilter originality, and a weirdness and unpredictability that makes them far more intriguing propositions than the desultory generic retread Subotsky had provided two years before.

Island of Terror (1966)

Dir: TERENCE FISHER
Country: UK

AKA:
The Creepers
The Night the Creatures Came
Night of the Silicates
The Night the Silicates Came

While director Terence Fisher showed a tremendous amount of enthusiasm and flair for the gothic horror productions he made for Hammer, his approach to films with a contemporary setting was significantly less accomplished. The two science-fiction pictures he made for producer Tom Blakely’s Planet Film Productions are ample evidence of this. Although I enjoyed both Island of Terror and its thematic sequel Night of the Big Heat (1968) it’s clear that Fisher’s heart isn’t in either project. This is despite the erstwhile support of Peter Cushing in both films. Where Fisher conjures up moments of sublime inspiration for Hammer, here his direction is bland and awkward, as featureless and uninspired as any hack invited to direct a low budget genre film. But somehow Island of Terror still manages to possess a certain charm, almost as if the ultra low budget is seen by the filmmakers as a challenge to their ingenuity. With its extremely silly and unconvincing monsters Island of Terror is very reminiscent of early 1970’s Doctor Who, and like Doctor Who a greater reliance is placed on the writing. Although the screenplay by Edward Mann and Al Ramsen is entirely unpersuasive in its badly researched science, the film moves along at such a quick pace that it doesn’t really allow an audience time to laugh at the absurdity…that comes after the end credits have rolled.

The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973)

Dir: ALAN GIBSON
Country: UK

aka:
Count Dracula and his Vampire Bride

Dracula Is Alive and Well and Living in London

The Satanic Rites of Dracula was Hammer’s seventh outing for the cape wearing fiend Count Dracula, and the last to feature Christopher Lee in the role. The Count would appear for one final time in a Hammer film in 1974 when John Forbes-Robertson put in the fangs for The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires. This particular entry is a direct sequel to the risible cinematic disaster Dracula A. D. 1972 (1972), and I’m relieved to say is a vast improvement on that embarrassing offal. In the main the same team were retained from A.D. 1972, with Alan Gibson directing and Don Houghton writing the screenplay. It beggars belief that they were given a second chance, but fortunately this time the filmmakers manage to concoct an enjoyable and tightly paced film. However as a finale to Hammer’s series of Dracula films it is something of a feeble and half-hearted whimper and does not bear any kind of comparison to some of the earlier films. The producers were clearly determined at this point to make Count Dracula succeed in a contemporary setting, and in large part here they do well. The failure of A. D. 1972 is that Dracula is not allowed too engage with modernity and spends the whole of the film within the gothic walls of a deconsecrated church. In Satanic Rites, Dracula has utilised capitalism and property development in order to create a smokescreen in front of his real identity. He has acquired the resources and influence in order to put forward a more coherent plan of vengeance, and is able to manipulate greed and avarice to control those disciples he needs to carry out his plan. In many ways Dracula is more like a Bond villain here, and although the character features little in the running time, he is still given far more than in the previous entry.

Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969)

Dir: TERENCE FISHER
Country: UK

Hammer Film Productions’ fifth entry in their cycle of Frankenstein movies is a major accomplishment. Those Frankenstein films directed by Terence Fisher have a remarkable consistency, and each subsequent instalment sought too extend the moral arguments set up in previous entries. There is a definite sense of thematic progression in Fisher’s Frankenstein films, and a sense of fragmented morality that centres on the twin pillars of these films; The Baron, and ‘The Monster’. In most of the films the creature is a reflection of a certain facet of the Baron’s personality - the best example is the vanity and pride of Karl/The Baron in The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958). But in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed this aspect of the characters’ is subsumed into the Baron’s uncompromising sadism. Prior entries had shown The Baron to be an astute reader of social situations, a well mannered aristocrat cleverly using the mask of benevolence to hide his diabolical schemes. There was at least a sense that somewhere amid the dismembered body parts The Baron’s motivations were noble and progressive. This moral tension is totally excised from Bert Batt’s screenplay, and The Baron is free to murder, blackmail, and even rape his way to the achievement of his nefarious goals. Depending on your point of view this is either a major weakness of the screenplay, or a major strength. I personally think it is a great strength, it leaves Peter Cushing free to indulge in some wonderfully cruel behaviour, and gives ‘The Monster’ an opportunity to fully explore the moral wasteland within which he resides.

The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958)

Dir: TERENCE FISHER
Country: UK

Hammer Film Productions’ wasted no time in capitalising on the surprise commercial success of their first colour gothic horror film The Curse of Frankenstein (1957). Within a year Peter Cushing was once again impressing audiences with his coldly logical Baron Frankenstein whose steely determination to create life remained undiminished despite a close call with the guillotine. The manner in which Frankenstein survives his execution is further evidence of screenwriter Jimmy Sangster’s ingeniousness. The switch of victims that takes place at the inhospitable gaol is not simply a throwaway event intended to ensure the survival of the films’ lead character, but a fundamental plot element of the ensuing sequel. Sangster’s screenplay builds on this opening by showing the ruthless way in which Frankenstein plays on the vanity of the crippled gaoler Karl, and the terrible price that Karl pays for placing his trust in the aberrant scientist. Not only are we to enjoy the return of the impeccable Peter Cushing as a result of this plot contrivance, but also a deep moral and thematic terrain that interrogates questions of mental illness, trust, and the manipulation of pride and vanity. This thematic trajectory for me makes The Revenge of Frankenstein a far more rewarding experience than The Curse of Frankenstein, and helps it to take its position as the greatest Frankenstein film put out by Hammer.

Dracula A. D. 1972 (1972)

Dir: ALAN GIBSON
Country: UNITED KINGDOM

aka:
Dracula 1972

Hammer’s seventh outing for Count Dracula is a curious entry which is never able to transcend embarrassment. By this point Hammer were literally and figuratively flogging a corpse, and their gothic horror films were tired, anachronistic, and only fleetingly lightened by lesbianism and nudity. Hammer’s horror films needed a new direction and after the surprise success of Count Yorga - Vampire (1970), which transplanted its vampire aristocrat into a modern setting Hammer clearly thought they had the answer. Much of the success of Count Yorga, Blacula (1972) and The Night Stalker (1972) rested on the manner in which the bloodsucker actually interacted with his surroundings. How Count Yorga (Robert Quarry) is able to manipulate the rationality and logic of modernity in order to cover his tracks is part of the films self-conscious appeal. He has integrated himself so successfully in modern society because of such things as cinema and literature, and the strong association between his kind and the world of fiction. This is a layer of meaning which Don Houghton’s screenplay for Dracula AD 1972 completely, and in my view catastrophically, omits. Instead when Dracula is resurrected in a black mass ceremony (almost a complete replay of a similar sequence in Taste the Blood of Dracula [1970]) he is not allowed to interact in any way with the modern world. He spends the film (when we are allowed an all to rare glimpse of him) stuck in an abandoned and deconsecrated church. This is a location that aesthetically at least could have worked in any of Hammer’s Victorian set Dracula films, so the inevitable question arises; what on the earth was the point?

The Abominable Snowman (1957)

Dir: VAL GUEST
Country: UNITED KINGDOM

aka:
The Abominable Snowman of the Himalayas

Hammer Film Productions quaint 1957 effort The Abominable Snowman holds a position of curiosity within the esteemed history of Britain’s greatest purveyors of gothic horror. Like all films of interest it tends to split opinion within horror circles. To those who perhaps prefer their horror more subtle than visceral it is seen as an intelligent human drama dedicated to a message of ecological awareness. To those less attuned too, or appreciative of, restraint and unobtrusiveness, it is viewed as slow, talky, and boring, with a ‘monster’ that appears all to briefly. Perhaps part of the problem for The Abominable Snowman is that even within the context of Hammer’s production roster it was considered anachronistic. Although it was made before The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), it wasn’t actually released until after the wicked Baron Frankenstein’s morally reprehensible experiments had struck an unsuspecting public. The black and white photography, token American actor, and the collaboration between director Val Guest and writer Nigel Kneale, belonged to a phase that Hammer were now leaving behind in favour of a colourful mid-European gothic netherworld in which the forces of good and evil were to do battle under the watchful eye of Terence Fisher. It was rushed out to capitalise on the newly discovered marquee status of Peter Cushing, a status which would have been unpredicted when the film was being made. Although Cushing controls the film, his domination is increased more with the knowledge that from the time the film was produced to when it was released, he had become a star.

Cash on Demand (1961)

Dir: QUENTIN LAWRENCE
Country: UK

Cash On Demand is a charming departure from the Mid-European gothic locale for which Hammer were best known. It appeared at a time when producer Michael Carreras was having some success in steering Hammer towards a more diverse range of films and the intention to differentiate this from the popular conception of Hammer is signified by the decision to shoot in black and white. The monochrome cinematography of Arthur Grant is crisp and concise and affords the film a sense of style and atmosphere very different to the gothic horrors -  and the tone of the picture also separates it from the psychological thrillers to which Hammer would give greater attention as the 1960’s progressed. The film marked a return for Hammer to the tactic of adapting a television success - in this case a 1960 episode of Theatre 70 written by Jacques Gillies. With some wisdom Hammer chose to retain Andre Morell from the television show, and in a piece of casting genius pitted him against Peter Cushing.

I, Monster (1971)

Dir: STEPHEN WEEKS
Country: UK

The chilling and legendary gothic novella The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde written by Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson and first published in 1886, has proven to be a particularly durable narrative for cinema and television to mine. Unfortunately the commercial imperatives of the marketplace, not to mention the conventions of narrative cinema, have often compromised its translation from page to screen. Perhaps most prominent in cinematic versions is the need too include a romantic sub-plot. The original novella is remarkable for its total lack of female characters. The second notable alteration is the need too include a special effects driven sequence illustrating the transformation Jekyll experiences when he morphs into the wicked Mr. Hyde. This aspect of the adaptation has taken on a prominence in the narrative that far outweighs its importance. For their 1971 take on Stevenson’s tale Amicus Productions, with a screenplay by co-founder Milton Subotsky, bravely removed the romantic underpinnings of past versions, and in a further act of bravery or perhaps desperation, gave the directing duties to young newcomer Stephen Weeks.

The House that Dripped Blood (1971)

Dir: PETER DUFFELL
Country: UK

Despite being hamstrung by one of Max J. Rosenberg’s silliest and most inappropriate titles (the director Peter Duffell wanted the far superior Death and the Maiden) The House that Dripped Blood is easily one of the finest, if not the finest, anthology horror film too emerge from Amicus Productions. Brilliant casting, excellent writing, and most importantly, unusually good direction give these simple morality tales an impressive veneer that Amicus only reached on a few exceptional occassions. If the film does have a weakness then it lies in the rather feeble and half-hearted framing narrative. This sees Detective Inspector Holloway (John Bennett) from Scotland Yard investigating (this involves sitting around, drinking tea, and being told creepy stories!) the recent disappearance of actor Paul Henderson (Jon Pertwee). The estate agent, who is named A. J. Stoker (John Bryans) in one of numerous self reflexive touches, expresses dire warnings, but they ultimately go on deaf ears as the film reaches a somewhat predictable climax.

The Beast Must Die (1974)

Dir: PAUL ANNETT
Country: UK

aka:
Black Werewolf

This utterly daft, but oddly endearing low budget horror flick saw Amicus Productions once again attempting (unsuccessfully) to conquer the single narrative feature film. As a story this is a complete nonsense but The Beast Must Die has the peculiar charm and characteristics of the cult film. An almost indefinable appeal, but one which has nevertheless seen this film remembered fondly. At the time it was heavily criticised for its gimmick of having a ‘werewolf break’ to allow the audience to decide which of Tom Newcliffe’s (Calvin Lockhart) guests is in fact a ravening lycanthrope. But this is precisely the type of detail which now aids a cult reading of the film. Furthermore the film has a large amount of generic hybridisation - melding as it does the horror elements of the werewolf sub-genre, thriller elements, the red herring structure of an Agatha Christie whodunit and various blaxploitation signifiers. Shot largely on location in the Surrey countryside surrounding Shepperton Studios the film makes use of some great rural countryside, especially in the sequences which open the film.