Nothing says Halloween like classic British monsters.  Unless maybe its classic Universal monsters – we’ll get to them next week.  Meanwhile, what better way to usher in the season of ghoulies and ghosties than two films from Hammer and one from Amicus.


THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY’S TOMB (1964)
Written and Directed by Michael Carreras

Sir Giles (Jack Gwillim), his colleague’s daughter Annette (Jeanne Roland), local government rep Hashmi Bey (George Pastell) and colleague John Bray (Ronald Howard) open a cursed tomb.  The financier of their expedition is Barnum-like American showman Alexander King (Fred Clark), who takes the mummy on tour.  But someone knows the ancient Words of Life…  Until the Mummy wakes up at the 54 minute mark, this film is dull and talky, with two (count ‘em: two) flashbacks to ancient Egypt; with the exception of the first two of three hand amputations, it barely feels like a Hammer film at all, as almost none of their regular actors are on screen (except for supporting actor Pastell and Michael Ripper in a two-line role), and few of their regulars are behind the camera.  When the Mummy appears at the top of a fog-shrouded flight of stairs to toss Clark down them, the movie finally starts moving and is quite satisfying until its unusual conclusion.  Under the bandages, Dickie Owen attempts a credible imitation of Christopher Lee’s Mummy in Hammer’s first film in this unrelated series, and though he doesn’t possess Lee’s physical eloquence, he is a powerful presence.  The film looks terrific and Sony’s transfer does justice to Otto Heller’s cinematography and Hammer’s typically fastidious set and costume departments.  Carlo Martelli’s score is a fine departure from James Bernard’s usual (and effective) percussive hammering (excuse the pun).  Ronald Howard is a dull hero, Jeanne Roland is not one of Hammer’s more memorable heroines, Terence Morgan makes an acceptable Gig Young-like bad boy, Pastell is allowed to play a good guy (unusual for a foreign character in a British film of this period),  and Gwillim’s Sir Giles is an interesting character who sinks into alcoholism when his find is taken away from him by Clark, who aptly fills his role as the brash American entrepreneur.  If only the first two thirds were as good as the final third, this would be a worthy sequel to Hammer’s first Mummy movie.


THE GORGON (1964)
Written by John Gilling  Directed by Terence Fisher

In 1910, the German village of Vandorf is terrorized by a series of full moon murders in which the victims are turned to stone.  The authorities, including Dr. Namaroff (Peter Cushing) and the chief of police (Patrick Troughton) do their best to cover things up, but when both a young artist, his model and the artist’s father are murdered, the artist’s brother (Richard Pasco) enlists Prof. Meister (Christopher Lee) to help him investigate, finding a surprise ally in the beautiful Carla Hoffman (Barbara Shelley), Namaroff’s assistant.  I saw this when it was originally released on a double bill with CURSE OF THE MUMMY’S TOMB (when the theatre gave away “Black Stamps”, little postage stamps with monsters on ‘em), again when it was released as a difficult-to-track extended play pan and scan VHS 20 years ago, and not since.  This gorgeous print on Sony/Columbia’s new “Icons of Horror” set allows the viewer to fully enjoy the rich lighting and cinematography of Michael Reed and the production design of Bernard Robinson.  Terence Fisher gets maximum atmosphere and dread out of John Gilling’s good script, eliciting nuances of characterization from bad guy Cushing and encouraging good guy (for a change) Lee to energetically go all-out as the hero.  Some beautifully done matte paintings enhance the production considerably, as does James Bernard’s typically vigorous score.  Though the most effective Gorgon on film is undoubtedly Harryhausen’s creation in CLASH OF THE TITANS, Prudence Hyman’s hideous green clad vision is a strikingly effective image, though the same cannot be said for her prop decapitated head.  Of all Hammer’s one-off monster movies (CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF, PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES, THE REPTILE), this may be the most entertaining.


THE SKULL (1965)
Written by Milton Subotsky  Directed by Freddie Francis

I had seen this Amicus film only once before, and it’s pan/screen UHF image with commercial interruption did no service to it’s delicate mood, atmosphere, cinematography and scene design, all of which are strongly evident in this beautiful letterboxed DVD from Legend Films.  I’ve read that the original script was only 58 pages long, forcing director Francis and his collaborators to flesh the film out to feature length with visual ingenuity and imagination.  The slender plot involves supernatural esoterica collector Peter Cushing’s purchase of the skull of the Marquis de Sade, much against the advice of fellow collector Christopher Lee.  Cushing is soon possessed by the evil spirit of the skull.  Though Francis has said in numerous interviews that he never had any particular feel for horror films, (and all his other films I’ve seen bear this out), this is his best film as a director; he elicits strong, subdued performances from Lee, supporting actors Michael Gough, Nigel Green, and Patrick Magee, and an emotional tour de force from Cushing, who spends vast amounts of screen time reacting to the immobile skull and convinces you of its evil life.  Francis uses every visual means at his disposal to inform the thin story with visual information: in the initial auction house scene, for example, he places Lee and Cushing in bright white light that pushes everyone else in the room into the three-dimensional background; and he uses the colors of the various libraries, hallways and stairwells in which the film is set to highlight the mental conditions of the characters.  Cushing’s nightmare sequence, which starts unobtrusively and builds to surreality, is bolstered by decor, light, silence, and the strong music score of Elizabeth Lutyens.  The plot of this movie could easily fit into a 25 minute Twilight Zone, but its use of all the tools of the color wide-screen movie makes it the shadowy, entertaining film it is.

— Robert Deveau
The Jack-O-Lantern Farmer