Monday, November 3, 2014

Horror of Dracula (1958)

dir. Terence Fisher cast Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Michael Gough, Melissa Stribling, Carol Marsh, John Van Eyssen

One of the most important horror films ever made, Horror of Dracula, along with The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), established Britain's Hammer Films as the preeminent horror studio of its era, much as Universal had been in the 1930's, and gave birth to a revival of gothic horror films that would last into the 1970s. Horror also made a horror film icon out of Christopher Lee, who would go on to play Dracula in six more Hammer films and would star in many other classic horror movies. As I write this, fifty-six years later, Lee is still acting, the last of the great horror icons. Lee had already appeared as the monster in The Curse of Frankenstein, but he was, of course, heavily made up and that film clearly focused on the scientist, not the monster. It was Horror of Dracula that made Lee a star.

Cushing, who earned his horror icon status in The Curse of Frankenstein, turns in an excellent performance as well in the role of Van Helsing. He makes Van Helsing believable as a man of science who also is an expert on the supernatural. His presence is so strong that the sequel, Brides of Dracula (1960), revolved around him, rather than the vampire (Lee refused to appear for fear of being typecast), and was nearly as good as Horror of Dracula.

Horror of Dracula introduced literal blood and new levels of sexuality into the vampire film. One of the first things we see in the film is bright red blood dripping onto Dracula's coffin. We never see whose blood this is, nor does this scene ever recur doing the movie; it is meant to show the viewer that this film will be different. Hammer would be taking a different path than the restrained Val Lewton movies of the 1940's and would be taking advantage of greater standards of explicitness that had developed since the US-made Dracula of 1931. This time we would see the vampire's blood-stained fangs and would witness his attacks in vivid close-ups. There had been a suggestion of a sexual component in Bela Lugosi's interpretation of Dracula, but Horror of Dracula made it much more overt. Lucy Holmwood (Marsh) waits for Dracula nervously but with clear anticipation, to come to her bedroom, the way a young virginal bride might wait for her husband on their wedding night. Dracula kisses Mina (Stribling) before biting her neck and she seems sexually satisfied the morning after their first encounter. The portrayal of the vampire as an overtly sexual figure, which seems the dominant image of vampires today, largely began here.

Aside from its historical importance, the movie is flat-out entertaining. It's very well directed. I especially like the fact that Dracula has not one, but several dramatic entrances during the course of the film. Lee is actually onscreen a very small percentage of the time, but his appearances always have maximum impact. The scenes where Dracula suddenly appears at the top of the staircase to a startled Harker (Van Eyssen), charges into the library with bloodstained fangs and bulging red eyes, looms in Lucy's doorway at night are all memorably dramatic (and are all common stills often seen in guidebooks to horror movies). Equally memorable is the scene where a vampirized Lucy, about to bite her mesmerized brother Arthur (Gough), is suddenly foiled by a cross thrust in front of her face from offscreen, held, it turns out, by Van Helsing. Van Helsing and Dracula's final struggle is also impressive and is one of the most famous scenes in horror, as the adversaries chase each other through the castle, leaping over and on furniture.

In the 1931 version of Dracula, Bela Lugosi gave the definitive performance as the famous vampire. But overall, that movie, hurt by the limitations of early sound films, is static and seems like a filmed stage play (it was based on a theatrical adaptation of the novel). Horror of Dracula is much more entertaining. In fact, I consider the Hammer movie to be the best vampire film ever made.










Witchfinder General (1968)

dir. Michael Reeves cast Vincent Price, Ian Oglivy, Rupert Davies, Hillary Dwyer, Rupert Davies

It is 1645. As the English Civil War rages, Matthew Hopkins (Price) travels the countryside accompanied only by his servant, John Stearne (Russell). Hopkins is authorized by Parliament to arrest, try, and execute witches and is paid for every witch that he finds and puts to death. With the cooperation of local magistrates, Hopkins goes from village to village, arresting unpopular locals, allowing the sadistic Stearne to torture confessions out of them, and hanging or burning them. In the village of Brandeston, he accuses the unpopular local priest, John Lowes (Davies) and has him tortured. Desperate, the priest's beautiful niece and ward, Sara (Dwyer), offers herself to Hopkins if he will end the torture and spare Lowes. Hopkins agrees, but eventually loses interest in Sara and has Lowes executed. Soon after, Sara is visited by her lover and fiance, Richard Marshall, a young cavalry officer fighting on the side of Parliament against the King. Furious when he finds out that his oath to protect Sara has been broken, Marshall swears vengeance on Hopkins and Stearne.

When Michael Reeves made this film, he was considered one of the most promising young British directors. He was only 25 when the film was released and had already directed a well-received horror film called The Sorcerers, co-starring Oglivy and Boris Karloff. However, in February 1969, having started work on his next film, The Oblong Box, with Price and Christopher Lee, he died of a drug overdose. It was a tragic loss to horror cinema because Witchfinder General is an outstanding film.

The film is a profoundly pessimistic one, with no really sympathetic characters except Sara. Hopkins is a cold, heartless man who craves power and money and who is entirely insensitive to the suffering of people whom he knows to be innocent. Stearne is simply a sadist. Marshall starts out as a sympathetic character, but as his obsession with killing Hopkins grows, he becomes more and more like his target. In the end, we see that he is capable of the same savagery as Hopkins and Stearne, though not directed against the innocent. Reeves shows us a time and place where people, surrounded by violence, have lost their humanity in the quest to fulfill their own selfish desires.

This is one of Price's greatest roles. He had gained fame for his flamboyant performances in the Roger Corman-directed adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe stories in the mid-1960's. In fact, AIP, the studio for which Corman directed those pictures and the US distributor for Witchfinder General, retitled the film The Conquerer Worm (a Poe poem) for US showings, hoping to tie it to the Corman-Price-Poe series. However, Price plays this role completely straight with none of the theatrics he brought to the Poe films, or to later films such as Theatre of Blood. Hopkins (who was an actual historical figure) is portrayed as a dead-serious, even understated man, who is never emotional. Price, with his sneering voice, is perfect for the role of a man who is contemptuous of everything and everybody around him. This role proves that Price was not only a horror star, but a good actor.

Witchfinder General was popular enough that it started a disreputable sub-genre of witchcraft/torture movies that are, in some ways, precursors of the recent "torture-porn" films birthed by the success of Saw. Among these were The Devils (1971-directed by Ken Russell), Mark of the Devil (1969), and Mark of the Devil, Part 2 (1972). These films, particularly the latter two, existed basically to titillate viewers with scenes of sexuality and torture. Although Witchfinder General includes these elements, it is much more and stands as one of the best horror films of the 1960s.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

I Walked With a Zombie (1943)


dir. Jacques Tourneur cast Frances Dee, Tom Conway, James Ellison, Edith Barrett, James Bell

Betsy Connell (Dee) a Canadian nurse, accepts a job to care for the wife of an English planter, Paul Holland (Conway) on the Caribbean island of San Sebastian. The woman, Jessica Holland (Christine Gordon), is suffering from a strange illness which renders her mute and unresponsive, but still allows her to be ambulatory - a kind of waking coma. Holland's black servant Alma (Theresa Harris) tells Betsy that voodoo may be able to cure Jessica. Falling in love with the brooding Paul, the selfless Betsy decides to take Jessica to a voodoo ceremony in hopes of finding a cure for her condition.

This is one of the best horror movies ever made. The producer, Val Lewton, made a series of low-budget horror films for RKO Studios in the mid-1940's. All of these films emphasized atmosphere over shocks and many of them, such as Cat People and The Body Snatcher are rightly considered among the genre's true classics. I Walked with a Zombie is one of Lewton's best and competes with Cat People as the most admired of all his films. Rather than trying to induce terror or revulsion in the viewer, it goes for a feeling of eerie strangeness. The most famous sequence comes as Betsy leads Jessica toward the location of the voodoo ceremony. Under a dark sky, accompanied by the wailing wind and the distant sound of voodoo drums, the women make their way through fields of tall sugar cane, unable to see more than a few feet in front of them. They encounter signs of death on the way: a cattle skull stuck on a pole, a dead goat hanging on a small tree, a human skull inside a ring of stones, and finally Carrefour (Darby Jones), the towering, cadaverous, zombie (presumably) lookout for the Voodoo priests. Because it is so successful in creating a fearful mood without the presence (or even suggestion) of violence or bloodshed, this is one of the key sequences in the history of horror cinema. There are many other memorable scenes as well: Jessica, in a long white nightdress wandering the grounds of Paul's "fort", Carrefour, seen in shadow, looming outside Betsy's room at night.

Despite the title, I Walked with a Zombie is one of the most literate horror films ever made (its plot was based on Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre), and a reminder of what horror films can be. The film deals with the way in which past events can cast a shadow over the present and lead to guilt and unhappiness. The black residents of the island cry at a birth and celebrate at funerals because of the brutal legacy of slavery. Paul is morbid and unhappy and his half brother, Wesley (James Ellison), while seemingly cheerful, regularly drinks himself into a stupor. The kind and brave Betsy eventually uncovers the family secret which caused all this unhappiness, but is unable to prevent tragedy, though the film holds out hope that she and Paul may find happiness together. The movie's horror is in the tortured psyches of the characters, and the fear of the unknown, more than in any horrific event.

Another notable thing about the film is that it is one of the few horror movies to treat Voodoo as a legitimate religion that is not equivalent to satanism. The ceremony that we witness is strange, but Betsy and Jessica, the white interlopers there, are not threatened. The film takes no position on whether Voodoo has any actual power or not; everything the characters experience could have a logical explanation. It is portrayed as a deeply held spiritual belief which helps the black islanders cope with their history of slavery and powerlessness.

I was very glad to have the opportunity to see I Walked with a Zombie again after a lapse of several years since my first viewing, and it was even better than I remembered. It is a must-see for anyone interested in the history of horror cinema, or who prefers atmosphere over violence.