Coming Attractions - Hands of the Ripper (1971) / Twins of Evil (1971)

Hands of the Ripper (1971)

Dir: PETER SASDY

Country: UNITED KINGDOM

For me the most intriguing and interesting period in Hammer Film Productions’ long history is from 1970-76. By this stage Hammer were no longer the despised whipping boys of the critical cognoscenti but were establishment figures. In a remarkable about turn from the late 1950’s they were now the acceptable face of the horror genre in British film culture. But some things are more important than critical acceptance, and one of those things is commercial success. At the turn of the decade Hammer found themselves out of step and out of time, thanks in no small part to the cynical nihilism of hard hitting horror productions such as Witchfinder General (1968) and Night of the Living Dead (1968), and the subtle and nuanced terrors of rigorously modern films like Rosemary’s Baby (1968). The release of controversial films such as Straw Dogs (1971), A Clockwork Orange (1971), The Devils (1971), and later horror titles such as The Exorcist (1973) and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) would only further dilute Hammer’s horrifying visions. Hammer had little choice but to turn to nudity, increased violence, and scenes of softcore lesbianism, in a series of films which had little to differentiate them from the sexploitation product distributed with seemingly unending regularity in mainland Europe.

Press Book Collection - Scream and Scream Again (1970)

 

Blueblood (1973)

Dir: ANDREW SINCLAIR

Country: UK-CANADA

1973 was a very busy and productive year for English actor Oliver Reed.  He began it in the Italian/French co-production Dirty Weekend, a crime/comedy directed by Dino Risi, which paired him up with Marcello Mastroianni.  He followed this with the historical drama Frenzy, an Italian/UK co-production exploring the class divides in pre-revolutionary Russia, in which he played Palizyn opposite Claudia Cardinale’s Anya. He continued his association with Italian cinema in his following film Revolver (US title Blood on the Streets) an excellent crime thriller directed by Sergio Sollima, which saw Reed and Fabio Testi make unlikely allies as they uncover a far reaching political conspiracy. Reed’s biggest success of 1973 was his following film, playing Athos in Richard Lester’s spirited and entertaining screen version of The Three Musketeers. Reed’s fifth and final screen credit of 1973 was in the obscure British film Blueblood, based on Alexander Thynne’s novel The Carry Cot. There are those who classify Blueblood as a horror film, but it is more of a class drama in the mould of the Pinter/Losey production The Servant (1962). The motivations of the respective butler’s in each film are pretty much the same, but their methodology differs. In Blueblood Tom, played with the hulking brutishness and barely suppressed rage that became Reed’s stock in trade, utilises witchcraft to secure his aims.

Celluloid Snaps - The Deadly Bees (1967)

Director - FREDDIE FRANCIS

Country - UK

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.

Celluloid Sounds - The Blood on Satan's Claw (1970)

From a purely personal perspective, the Tigon production of The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1970) represents the pinnacle of the British horror film. Of course an objectively dispassionate and critical eye is able to discern a myriad of plot deficiencies and narrative weaknesses, and one or two performances diminish the overall effect, but for me this is an insidiously perverse, eerie, and troubling piece of work, which evocatively renders the fears and superstitions of a rural 17th century community. In addition to its censor baiting visuals, and its various concessions to generic cinema, it is also a beautiful film about the English countryside. It is incredibly earthy, overflows with a rich autumnal palette, and possesses such a sense of pastoral isolation that at times the narrative takes on the mythical persona of a folk tale. The gorgeous Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire countryside was strikingly shot by cinematographer Dick Bush, and the natural lighting brings an exquisite rustic charm to its tale of a village’s children succumbing to the influence of Satan. Like the best examples of film art The Blood on Satan’s Claw works on an allegorical level, and its dramatic clash between a group of children realising and celebrating their freedom and sexuality, and the forces of patriarchal adulthood that seek to contain it offers a prescient message for the age of permissiveness.

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).

Celluloid Sounds - The Long Good Friday (1980)

A few years back I was asked by a fellow academic to decide upon my favourite British film of all time, and then write an appreciation of it, for a book that unfortunately never saw the light of day. I chose The Long Good Friday and as I think about it now, several years on, my decision would probably remain the same. My interest in British genre cinema goes far beyond horror; indeed at one time I had a greater interest in home-grown gangster, noir, and science-fiction films than I did with a lot of generically retrograde horror pictures. The challenge of a genre film is in providing something innovative and new within a restrictive narrative and iconographic environment; this is made even more challenging when that genre then has to be adjusted to the meta-narratives and cultural concerns of a national cinema. In some genres, such as the western, this is impossible. But the syntactic concerns of the American gangster film seem to fit the gritty social realism that marked large swathes of British cinema like a glove. The Long Good Friday is an innovative gangster picture that isn’t concerned with the rise of the criminal, but instead completely focuses on his fall, and it is a fall that is made supremely entertaining by Bob Hoskins’ apoplectic and bemused rage.

Guest Review - Outlaw (2007)

Dir: NICK LOVE
Country: UK

What is wrong with British Cinema? Nick Love, Outlaw and er... Danny Dyer.

“‘ee’s a facking nonce now put ‘im dahn!”

For my sins, I’m somehow drawn to write on the rather horrible but somewhat fascinating Outlaw. This is for two reasons. Firstly, it sits well outside the remit of Videotape Swapshop. Secondly, in conversation with the author of this fine film site, I was asked how I managed to live (and work) in London. I began to think about the cinematic representation of life in England’s capital – all the more relevant, I guess, with the current overwhelming and ongoing public image exercise at hand in the city with this summer’s Olympic Games preparations. Once upon a time, we had Mike Leigh to paint the picture of life in England, and often of life in and around London. It usually involved familial disputes over mismatching tea cups and Hygena kitchen sinks, and usually, intentionally, stretched no further than the semi detached landscape of the suburbs. Then, from the steaming afterbirth of the artful (Madonna) dodger Guy Ritchie and his pop grot hooliganism, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998), emerged Nick Love.

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.

The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959)

Dir: TERENCE FISHER
Country: UK

Hammer’s 1959 production The Man Who Could Cheat Death was a sobering lesson in how the British studios unique brand of gothic horror could easily become stilted and uninteresting. There were warning signs in The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) which was sluggish and long-winded in places, but the appetite of cinema patrons for a sensational colour horror film in the dour and dreary late 1950’s, to a certain degree papered over the negative consequences of Terence Fisher’s unadventurous, unobtrusive and minimalist attitude to film direction. Fisher’s style however was particularly suited to Dracula (1958), The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958) and The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959), and this trilogy of excellent gothic pictures did what a Fisher film does best; shows off and celebrates other aspects of the production. Fisher was an extremely generous filmmaker, and one who instinctively knew that certain aspects of a film should be highlighted, while others should be left to linger in the shadows. A casualty of this approach was Fisher himself, whose status as a director was never recognised by contemporary culture. The Man Who Could Cheat Death was Hammer’s fifth departure into the Victorian trappings of gothic horror, and on almost every level is an unqualified failure; and while defenders of Hammer may argue that it fails in spite of Terence Fisher’s best efforts, I think Fisher needs to take his share of the blame.

The Brigand of Kandahar (1965)

Dir: JOHN GILLING
Country: UK

British director John Gilling holds a curious position within the history of Hammer Film Productions. He was the main creative force behind two of their most successful and fondly remembered titles; The Plague of the Zombies (1966) and The Reptile (1966). Yet the other films he made for the company have become outright obscurities. It is only in the last couple of months that two of his films - The Scarlet Blade (1964) , and The Brigand of Kandahar - made their debut on DVD; whilst The Shadow of the Cat (1961) still awaits a legitimate DVD release. Even his single entry into the ongoing saga of Egypt’s favourite mummified corpse The Mummy’s Shroud (1967) is largely overlooked and ignored despite being very entertaining. When one compares Gilling to other directors Hammer regularly employed such as Terence Fisher, Freddie Francis, or Val Guest, his marginalisation becomes more apparent. Of course an obvious answer for the relative disappearance of these films might be that they’re dreadfully incompetent. Unfortunately The Brigand of Kandahar does little to dispel that reading.

Kill List (2011)

Dir: BEN WHEATLEY
Country: UK

Few British genre efforts come with quite the degree of fanfare afforded to Ben Wheatley’s second film Kill List. But beneath the enthusiasm the prevailing trend to emerge from discussions of Kill List is that it’s an extremely divisive film. The critical notices have been patchy, but whatever one might think of the film, people are certainly talking about it. As a long time supporter of indigenous genre production I’m all for this. Any film that inspires discussion and argument is of benefit, especially in a film culture that sorely needs distinctive and generically progressive material. For many Ben Wheatley will be a new name, but his darkly humorous and dialogue driven debut effort Down Terrace (2009) marked him out as fresh new talent. In a way Wheatley was fortunate that Down Terrace slipped quietly away into the ether because viewing it will certainly prepare you for the style and tone of Kill List. The key ingredient both films have in common is a sense of rising tension. An atmosphere of menace, imperceptible at first, that steadily builds throughout both films, and culminates in moments of unexpected bloodshed and violence. There might be some who feel that the generic shift in the final third of Kill List unbalances and undermines proceedings, but in light of the simmering ambience of the previous hour the narrative had to go somewhere. That the writers (Wheatley himself and his partner Amy Jump) opt for the folk-horror territory of The Wicker Man (1973) is to be commended in my view.

The Stranglers of Bombay (1959)

Dir: TERENCE FISHER
Country: UK

At first glance one might assume that Hammer’s 1959 production The Stranglers of Bombay was a departure from the successful cycle of gothic horrors the company had been churning out since The Curse of Frankenstein (1957). The reality is that despite its distinct historical and cultural setting the film is a solid example of what was increasingly becoming known as ‘Hammer Horror’. The structure of the movie will be all too familiar to those well versed in the films of Hammer and specifically those of in-house director Terence Fisher. The narrative is clearly demarcated along the lines of good and evil, and the rather simplistic Manichean universe that bound Hammer’s horror cycle at the time is effortlessly maintained. The screenplay by David Zelag Goodman opts to emphasis sensationalism over an intelligent examination of colonialism. So while we are offered up such delights as brandings, eye gouging, and mutilation, the question of imperialism remains a vague backdrop. Nevertheless colonialism would form the background to a number of later Hammer pictures including The Terror of the Tongs (1961), The Brigand of Kandahar (1965), The Plague of the Zombies (1966), The Reptile (1966), and The Mummy’s Shroud (1967). The subject was never really explored with any degree of sophistication, but it did achieve a metaphoric highpoint in The Reptile. There was a great deal of potential in the premise of The Stranglers of Bombay for it to stand alone, but unfortunately it isn’t quite able to escape the strictures of a well rehearsed formula.

Guest Review - The Dead (2010)

Director(s): HOWARD J. FORD and JONATHAN FORD  

Country: UK

In a short piece I wrote several months ago for Videotape Swapshop on George A. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead (1978), I light heartedly remarked on the prolificacy, or over saturation, of zombie films within the contemporary horror canon as having become “ten a penny”. To elaborate on this comment, I would like to consider what might be perceived as a cyclical regression or perhaps the creative distress of the genre belonging to the Living Dead. This is to say that: since the late 70s, the undead in horror film have chewed on the bones of exploitation; groaned and wailed through the grue caked cityscapes of revisionism; shuffled down the path of post-modernism and found themselves back at the beginning of the nightmare – collected as a clawing mob outside the fortress of the High Concept. In a sense, the Morti Viventi sub genre has finally started to eat itself…

The Shadow of the Cat (1961)

Dir: JOHN GILLING
Country: UK

Although credited to BHP Productions (a company formed by veteran horror scribe George Baxt, Richard Finlay Hatton, and filmmaker Jon Penington in order to take advantage of a new sponsorship scheme created by the ACTT*) 1961’s The Shadow of the Cat is at heart a Hammer production.† The film was shot entirely at Bray Studios and familiar Hammer names amongst the cast and crew included André Morell, Barbara Shelley, John Gilling, Arthur Grant, and Bernard Robinson. This was in fact director John Gilling’s first directorial assignment for Hammer, and although it has not attained the cult following of The Reptile (1966) and The Plague of the Zombies (1966), it’s still a competently directed film. The Shadow of the Cat hasn’t really had much chance to attain any kind of following, and it remains to this day one of Hammer’s most obscure titles. One possible reason might be the rather antiquated Cat and the Canary/Old Dark House type plot, and a second might be the timidity of the narrative. It singularly lacks the blood and thunder of Hammer’s gothic horrors, and in comparison is rather stately and well mannered. Neither does it have the clever plot mechanics or high levels of suspense that Hammer’s sub-set of monochrome psychological thrillers enjoyed. Its status as a Hammer film is open to dispute, and in my opinion quite rightly so. It is possessed of a tone and attitude that is quite unlike anything the company was making at the time, and its relative failure may have something to do with this. Nevertheless a curiosity such as this is surely deserving of a DVD release!

Nicolas Roeg Poster Gallery

 Performance (1970) - US Poster

 

Performance #2 - West German Poster

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Walkabout (1971) - US Poster

 Walkabout #2 - UK Quad Poster

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.