The Many Faces of Boris Karloff, Vol. 2

The Many Faces of Boris Karloff, Vol. 1

VAULT VLOG: Of Awards and Things...

Love Stalker: If David Lynch Made a Rom-Com...

I've been well-acquainted with the raw talent of micro-budget filmmaker Matt Glasson since I reviewed his 2007 featurette The Family Tie. I titled that review "If Dali Made a Revenge Flick"--a response to the absurdist lens through which Glasson and co-director Scott Greene interpreted the classic '70s exploitation subgenre. This time out, I was struck by another bold and jarring juxtaposition. Only now, I was viewing a much more polished product, and most importantly of all, a feature-length film.

Love Stalker is the feature directing, writing and acting debut of Glasson, who has the kind of presence one can easily imagine being put to use at some point on a much grander stage. For now, until someone with some serious scratch wakes up and realizes what he's capable of, I'll be content to watch him do his thing with movies like this for as long as he chooses.

Although the film may not really be horror by any stretch of the imagination, I'm giving it a pass and reviewing it here because of the surprising manner in which it disturbed me, and because of the psychological terrain it explores. Glasson and co-director/screenwriter Bowls MacLean have done something quite daring here in deconstructing the modern romantic comedy to expose its sinister, discomforting underbelly. They have also endeavored to demonstrate exactly how someone becomes a stalker, which I found to be the film's most fascinating conceit.

Pete, our main character, is what modern parlance would label a "player"--a 30-something hipster whose sole purpose for existing seems to be to bed as many women as possible. Until he meets Stephanie (played by the lovely Rachel Chapman) and falls in love, only to have his love spurned once she discovers his amorous past. This leads Pete down a dark path, as he attempts to "win her back" using methods he's observed in popular romantic comedies.

From a structural standpoint, this is where the film achieves eminent watchability. What starts out as a light-hearted Swingers-esque romp in which Pete and his schlemazal buddy Tony joke their way through singles life in St. Louis jarringly shifts gears to become an unsettling examination of existential desperation and loss. Along the way, it makes some pretty biting commentary on the entire rom-com subgenre it seeks to both lampoon and dissect.

While the chemistry of the ensemble cast may not achieve the levels of a Swingers or an Office Space, it nevertheless is a cut above what one would expect from such a low-budget, first-time feature. Glasson does a fine job of making Pete a layered, wounded character who is at the same time charismatic and likeable despite his creepy transformation. We get to know him as a person, and can thus totally understand how and why he chooses such an irrational course of action. The one blemish of note is derived from a puzzling, dreamlike scene in which Pete is grilled by two ambiguous undercover cops in his apartment--it's sloppily paced, clumsily acted, and worst of all, unnecessary. But thankfully, it is a minor exception in an otherwise well-built motion picture.

The cinematography of Bart Elfrink and Joshua Lassing is also worth mentioning. It does a fine job of both showcasing the city of St. Louis that acts as a backdrop to the proceedings, as well as assisting in the portrayal of Pete's descent into madness. For example, there's a scene in which Pete hides out in Stephanie's bedroom closet while she makes love to another man that is easily the centerpiece of the picture, with its eery focus on a single sliver of light cast across Pete's face in the dark.

In the end, the movie deconstructs its subject matter so thoroughly that we're not even sure where reality ends and fantasy begins. Who was the real stalker--jilted player Pete or cold and calculating relationship blogger Stephanie? I was even tempted to ask the question of whether or not Stephanie ever even existed in the first place.

But I'll leave you to decide that. I recommend heading over to the official Love Stalker website to learn more about the film, including how to get your hands on it for either private or public screening. I'm not one to blindly support independent cinema regardless of quality. I support good cinema--and that's what this is.

Random Ramblings from the Vault...

• I'm very excited to announce that the fourth and final chapter of my long-running series of Godzilla discussions with Miguel Rodriguez of the Monster Island Resort podcast is now online, and you can view it here! That's right, I said view it. Miguel and I finally had an opportunity to meet in person last weekend, and recorded this to commemorate the event. A thrilling way to end the series, and I'd like to make it known here that we are now planning a series of podcasts on the Universal monster series--so stay tuned, Vault dwellers...

• So I spent an evening with Captain Cruella and my folks watching both versions of The Blob, and now I can't get Burt Bacharach's kitschy Blob theme song out of my head. "Beware of the Blob!"

• I just realized that I did a whole 2012 horror movie preview and left out Tim Burton's Dark Shadows with Johnny Depp. Major lapse right there. So let me officially say right here and now that I am supremely psyched for it.

• I'm hoping to do a top 10 list very soon featuring my favorite haunted house movies. I have lots of ideas, needless to say. What might you include on such a list?

• SyFy has this new show called Face Off, in which aspiring movie makeup effects people compete. On the season premiere, they were asked to "reinvent" the characters from The Wizard of Oz. So of course, they had to go all dark and twisted and give everything a horror spin. I can understand one team deciding to do this, but both? Yeesh, I love horror as much as the next guy, Lord knows--but there comes a time when you need to lighten up, people. It's The Wizard of Frakkin' Oz for crying out loud...

• Another Friday the 13th has come and gone. Once again I had to endure legions of my fellow horror fans going on and on about a series of films that I seem to be in the decided minority for not really liking at all. It has to be nostalgia, that's the only thing that could explain such mass delusion.

• The new Nosferatu at 90 series that I kicked off earlier this week seems to be getting a really great response. So nice to see such a classic still appreciated by so many. Thanks to everyone who checked it out. It will be a lot of fun exploring different aspects of the film over the course of its 90th anniversary year.

• OK. Only one more Twilight movie to go. We can get through this together, people. All holding hands and supporting each other. It will all be over soon. Keep the faith, my friends.

• In other news, The Vault of Horror has been nominated in Dead Lantern's Splatcademy Awards for Best Horror Blog/Website for the second year running. I'm honored to be included alongside such incredible sites as Arrow in the Head, Horror-Movies.ca, Final Girl and Shock Till You Drop. Go and cast your vote now--The Vault took home the prize last year; will it be two in a row? The voting ends February 20, with winners announced February 27.

• Speaking of awards, the 4th Annual Cyber Horror Awards are already in motion, and I've recruited a stellar band of judges to help me determine the nominees for the best in horror film during 2011. I should have the list of nominees ready by early next month, so sit tight and keep checking the CHA website...

The Vault of Horror's 2012 Movie Preview!

Let's face it. 2011 was not really the strongest year for horror. In fact, I'd say that it may just have been the weakest year since I began writing The Vault of Horror in 2007. Nevertheless, I'm pretty jazzed about what 2012 seems to have in store for us. If the Mayans are right, then I wouldn't really mind going down in a blaze of glory after witnessing this fine crop of fright flicks. Granted, some of these may very well turn out to be colossal stinkfests--only time will tell. I know I'll be checking out many a new horror film this year, and here are a bunch that I'm excited to see...

The Woman in Black
With Harry Potter now behind him, the grownup-ization of Daniel Radcliffe officially kicks off with this moody and atmospheric ghost thriller. I'm a big fan of good old-fashioned ghost stories, and this one has a great look to it. I'm hoping it delivers.

John Dies at the End
Phantasm maestro Don Coscarelli's return to horror has been making quite a stir at film festivals and gaining a lot of internet steam in the process. History has shown that this can all mean squat in the end, but I think it will at least be worth a look.

The Wicker Tree
The idea of a Wicker Man sequel written and directed by Robin Hardy, director of the original 1973 cult classic, is about as intriguing as it gets. This is something that Hardy has wanted to do for many, many years now, and I'll be lining up to see what he's come up with as soon as humanly possible. The cameo by Christopher Lee as Lord Summerisle is worth it alone.

Hotel Transylvania
Not to be confused with Transylvania 6-5000, this one is an animated flick directed by Genndy Tartakovsky, the genius behind Samurai Jack and Dexter's Laboratory, among other things. I'm thinking something along the lines of Igor, only hopefully it doesn't disappear in about two minutes flat.

[REC]3: Genesis
I've been a staunch champion of [REC] since day one. The original was easily the most frightening horror film of the previous decade, and I thought the sequel was a hell of a movie as well. That said, I have some serious reservations about this third one, as Paco Plaza may just have jumped the shark without his longtime partner Jaume Balaguero.

Twixt
Francis Ford Coppola, returning to the genre on which he cut his teeth some 50 years ago with Dementia 13? How could I not be interested in this, even with the participation of bloated, aging, pretentious hack Val Kilmer?

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
Goofy? Perhaps a little. But I've got a soft spot for the whole historical/literary horror mashup subgenre that's been all the rage the past few years. If I'm not mistaken, this would be the first cinematic adaptation in that subgenre. Could Pride and Prejudice and Zombies be far behind?

Maniac
When I met William Lustig at a screening of the original Maniac last year at the Avon Theatre, even he seemed interested to see what the remake of his seminal serial killer exploitation movie would be like. Granted, that may have been due to the enormous paycheck he's sure to receive, but what the heck, I'm being optimistic. Elijah Wood in the Joe Spinell role? This I've got to see.

Piranha 3DD
You can razz me all you want, but I had a hell of a lot of fun with Piranha 3D a few years back. Not to mention that it might have been the goriest film I've ever seen in my life! I'm not expecting anything life-changing here, but if the Piranha sequel is even half as much fun as the first one, then I'm there.

Frankenweenie
After 25+ years, Tim Burton at long last gives his classic short subject the feature film treatment. Still black and white, this time out, the story of a boy who reanimates his dead dog will be told through stop-motion animation. I do believe Burton has some experience with this technique...

World War Z
We've been waiting for it for years. Max Brooks' 2006 novel was one of a kind, taking the exploding zombie genre places it had never been before. And now, the movie is nearly upon us. A Brad Pitt vehicle, it promises to be zombie horror on an epic, big-budget scale. Yes, it's rated PG-13, deal with it. This could be the Citizen Kane of zombie films if done right.

Prometheus
Without a doubt, this is the genre project that has the majority of my attention this year. I have high hopes for this one, and almost can't believe it's actually happening. After all these years, Ridley Scott will at last be telling the story of that mysterious spacecraft discovered by the crew of the Nostromo in Alien. This one has the makings of a modern science fiction gem.

* * * * * * * * * *

And this is just a taste. Whether the world ends or not, clearly 2012 is going to be one terrifying year. Strap in, Vault dwellers, and I'll see you at the movies! Well, not really. I mean, if I saw you that would mean you were stalking me, which would be kind of weird, don't you think? Oh well, you get the point... Here's to a year of great horror cinema!

Nosferatu at 90: Still the Greatest Vampire Film Ever Made

Greetings, and welcome to the first edition of a brand new year-long series here in The Vault of Horror. For me, dear readers, the year 2012 means only one thing--and that's the 90th anniversary of one of horror cinema's true unassailable classics, F.W. Murnau's Nosferatu. It's hard to fathom that this film is almost a century old, and even more impressive is its continued ability to shock and terrify no matter how much time passes. Just as I did in years past with A Nightmare on Elm Street, Psycho and An American Werewolf in London, I'll be posting throughout the next 12 months on this, the first and greatest of all Dracula adaptations.

How is it that this film still can effect us so profoundly, when so much of horror's power is drawn from the unexpected? One would think that age would be the death knell of a great horror movie, and yet films like Nosferatu prove this to be dead wrong. Whether you're discovering it for the first time all these decades later, or watching it for the 90th time, Nosferatu has the power to utterly creep you out. Personally, I credit it to the merits of German Expressionism.

And Murnau was undoubtedly one of the pioneers of this form of cinema, cutting edge for its time and a far cry from the American, Hollywood style that would soon dominate filmmaking in the years to come. Make no mistake, the silent era of film belonged to the Europeans, and the Germans, in particular, in addition to the Russians and the French, certainly left their mark. Like the best of his peers, Murnau achieved that defining goal of Expressionism in all its forms, namely to evoke pure emotion through the visual medium. Expressionistic works are in a sense dreams brought to life, and in the case of Nosferatu, that dream is most decidedly a nightmare.

The film oozes atmosphere from beginning to end, and is jam-packed with iconic imagery that has stood the test of time for a reason. Interestingly enough, it also set a standard for vampire films, and Dracula adaptations in particular, that was not really followed (at least not for many years). Nosferatu stands out on its own as a unique and truly cinematic retelling of the Dracula story, with liberal license taken, of course. It is vastly different from the Hamilton Deane and John Balderston play that would first be staged two years after its release--the version which inspired Universal's famous talkie version with Bela Lugosi at the start of the next decade.

Nosferatu chooses a different path, eschewing the nascent sex appeal of the vampire to take a more traditional, folkloric approach. The vampire here is still in his repulsive, pre-modern form--there is nothing at all sexy or alluring about Count Orlok (Unless you're into that sort of thing. Who am I to judge?) If anything, the vampire here is a metaphor for plague, and even possesses certain undeniable anti-Semitic overtones (but that's a post for another day).

Still, the story is undeniably Bram Stoker's. So much so that Stoker's widow and her crack legal team nearly had the film eradicated from the face of the earth (another post for a later day). Thankfully for film lovers everywhere, Ms. Stoker was not successful in her efforts, and the movie remains extant to this day for new generations of horror fans to discover and relish. There are many horror classics that stand the test of time, but few are as truly timeless as this one, defying changing filmmaking styles and changing filmgoing tastes to remain a favorite of genre fans. It is just as fresh now as it was when it emerged from a Germany still reeling from the First World War.

In addition to its Expressionistic roots, or perhaps in connection to them, I have always found that the film retains so much power largely because it is so visual in nature. Of course, this was very much necessary due to the limitations (or some might say advantages) of silent cinema, in that the visual was the easiest and most effective way to get your message across. Later versions of Dracula--and indeed horror films in general of the next couple of decades--would rely less on imagery and more on dialogue and cerebral scares. This is not to say that Nosferatu is not a psychologically frightening film, but I would submit that more of the terror it inspires is derived from the direct impact of what we see on screen. It is not so much suspenseful as it is downright terrifying to look at.

As has been the case throughout most of film history, America has been resistant to foreign films, and so this film did not even have a chance to be released here when it first was made in 1922. In fact, it wasn't until the 1960s, many years after a single surviving print had made its way to these shores in defiance of a court order, that it began to attain the cult following in the U.S. that it now enjoys. I have had the privilege of witnessing Nosferatu on the big screen with live musical accompaniment not once, but twice. And although I had my gripes with both viewings (an ironic, snarky crowd the first time out; and wholly inappropriate music the second time), I still consider myself fortunate to have had the experience.

At the time, Nosferatu was largely overshadowed by the Universal Dracula, and later the Hammer Dracula of the 1950s-70s, and yet its interesting to note that nowadays, most horror fans would place Max Schreck right alongside Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee as one of the screen's iconic Counts. In fact, many vampire aficionados--including this one--will still argue that Nosferatu, the original vampire film, remains the very best to this day. A puzzling notion maybe, in that nobody has been able to top it in 90 years; and yet instead of bemoaning the state of vampire cinema for the past century, I will choose instead to celebrate the fact of Nosferatu's existence. And if it so pleases you, I invite you to join me in doing so for the remainder of 2012.

Three Decades of David: The Man Behind the Wolf

I'm closing out 2011 with one last edition of Three Decades of David, my year-long celebration of the 30th anniversary of An American Werewolf in London. This time out, we take a look at the man who brought this visionary and influential horror film to life, and one of the most underrated directors in the entire horror canon, Mr. John Landis.

Known equally for his work in comedy and horror, Landis has been a fixture in Hollywood since the late 1970s, when he exploded onto the scene with National Lampoon's Animal House, the film that established him as a top filmmaker. Nevertheless, filmmaking had been a passion for the Jewish-born Chicago native since he was a small child absorbing in amazement the work of Ray Harryhausen in movies like The 7th Voyage of Sinbad.

In fact, it was 7th Voyage that first put the directing bug in the boy's head, as he started wondering exactly whose job it was to make movies, and if he could take part. So from the beginning, it was the fantastic and surreal that drew Landis to the world of directing, and that attitude would be reflected in much of his later body of work:

I had complete suspension of disbelief—really, I was eight years old and it transported me. I was on that beach running from that dragon, fighting that Cyclops. It just really dazzled me, and I bought it completely. And so, I actually sat through it twice and when I got home, I asked my mom, “Who does that? Who makes the movie?” - The Film That Changed My Life, by Robert K. Elder

Landis got his start as an assistant director in Yugoslavia on the 1970 war comedy Kelly's Heroes, and also spent some further time in Europe assisting on movies like El Condor and Sergio Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West.

His actual feature film debut came in 1971 at the age of 21, when he wrote and directed the low-budget monster movie tribute, Schlock. But most of the '70s were tough for the young Landis, as he tried to break into Hollywood, taking any odd job he could along the way. He got a major break in 1977 when he directed the Zucker brothers breakout Kentucky Fried Movie, but it was Animal House a year later that put him on the map.

It was that movie that pushed Landis into a vibrant creative circle that included hot directors like Steven Spielberg and many of the masterminds behind America's new cutting-edge sketch comedy series, Saturday Night Live. In fact, his next feature would be the first film to be adapted from an SNL skit, namely The Blues Brothers starring Dan Akroyd and John Belushi.

His name established as a comedy director, Landis at last felt comfortable delving into an area that had long been his passion: horror. When he got the word out that his next project would be a personal labor of love called An American Werewolf in London, a lot of people were surprised that the director of such happy-go-lucky, light-hearted fare was tackling such a supposedly heavy project. Little did they know how close to his heart the material was. Actually, the original concept came to Landis while working on Kelly's Heroes in Yugoslavia, when he witnessed some peasants burying a man suspected of being a werewolf.

For 12 years, Landis had nursed the AWIL project, and to this day it is considered by most to be his finest work. Deftly weaving black comedy and real horror in a way not quite seen before, Landis crafted a truly innovative, preeminently influential motion picture, one worthy of being called one of the greatest fright films of all time. Best of all, he brought his unique comic sensibility to the project, making it a movie that's pretty tough to compare to anything else.

Finally having broken through to the genre he cherished best of all, Landis continued on for a bit in the horror vein, joining forces with none other than Steven Speilberg to produce a movie based on the classic Rod Serling TV series, The Twilight Zone. Also directing a portion of the anthology film, Landis ran into some serious trouble that nearly derailed his career when famed actor Vic Morrow and two child extras were accidentally killed in a helicopter during filming. After a trial for involuntary manslaughter and child endangerment, Landis and company were acquitted of all charges, but the tragedy and controversy has haunted the producer/director to a certain degree ever since.

Regardless of the Twilight Zone debacle, the 1980s was something of a golden era for John Landis. He would go on to direct the most famous music video of all time, Michael Jackson's "Thriller", which is in and of itself something of a horror short subject. He then settled back into his comedy comfort zone for much of the decade, putting out fondly remembered '80s flicks like Trading Places, Spies Like Us, Three Amigos and Coming to America.

If the 1980s was a golden age for Landis, then his directorial career took a decided dip into silver or bronze territory in the 1990s. This was the decade that gave us the Sylvester Stallone turkey Oscar, and the ill-conceived Tom Arnold vehicle The Stupids. Even a return to the franchise that once brought him such acclaim resulted only in the completely forgettable Blues Brothers 2000. Similarly, Beverly Hills Cop III did nothing to change the trend.

Although certainly not anywhere near the same ballpark as American Werewolf, Landis did make a brief return to horror in the 1990s with the vampire/gangster comedy Innocent Blood. While entertaining and possessing something of that Landis horror/comedy spark, it was a far cry from what the director had accomplished a decade prior.

Perhaps recognizing this downward trend, Landis shifted gears in the new century, turning to documentary filmmaking for much of the first decade. And now, the producer/director has reportedly shown interest in returning to the horror genre in the coming years, a rumor which is supported by his executive producing of last year's underground horror/comedy hit Some Guy Who Kills People.

Although his body of work can adequately be described as erratic, John Landis nevertheless deserves recognition as one of the brightest, visionary genre directors of his time. Just the achievement of An American Werewolf in London alone would be enough to afford him a fond remembrance in the hearts of horror and comedy fans. Add his successful SNL-alum comedies of the 1970s and 1980s, and you have a filmmaker who more than made his mark on his era.

Inspired by genre great Ray Harryhausen in that darkened theater, Landis grew to become a genre great himself.



Three Decades of David:

The Movie That Changed Werewolf Movies (And Horror!)
How the Dr. Pepper Pitchman Became a Horror Icon
The Music of An American Werewolf in London

Making Christmas....

A very, very Merry Christmas from The Vault of Horror!!

VAULTCAST EXCLUSIVE! Catching Up with Zacherley, the Cool Ghoul

I've got a special Christmas treat for you this week, kids. This is something I've been sitting on for quite a while now, so you must forgive me for the delay. But at last, the time has come.

Last spring, I made my usually annual sojourn to Chiller Theatre, this time with Captain Cruella, Zombelina and Wee-Sol all in tow. And we had the great luck of running into a true all-time legend of horror at that show--the one and only Zacherley, the iconic Northeast horror host whose famous broadcasts enthralled baby boomers for years.

Long the "mayor" of the Chiller Theatre convention, the 93-year-old Zacherley was proudly holding court that day in New Jersey, but gladly agreed to sit down and be interviewed for The Vault of Horror just a few days later. The following recording is the result of that interview, in which the old school horror host recounts all the details of his vast career, covering his years in radio and early TV, including the late-night movies that are still so fondly remembered by "monster kids" everywhere...

Listen to the interview on the embedded player below, or proceed to the official Vaultcast page and download it for listening later!

TRAILER TRASH! Christmas Edition, Book 2

And now...as a special holiday treat, I give you the vintage piece of Yuletide horror shlock, Christmas Evil, a.k.a. You Better Watch Out, featured in my October presentation on holiday-themed horror at Kevin Geeks Out. Enjoy it in its entirety--it's Ho-Ho-Horrible!!

Random Ramblings from the Vault...

• Has anyone ever noticed an unusual preponderance of mute female characters in Hammer films? I'm thinking the Brits must like their women silent. If anyone else has a better explanation, I'm all ears.

• 'Tis the season to watch Christmas movies, and as I lay here taking in the classic It's a Wonderful Life on NBC, I can't believe I never noticed before how closely it resembles a feature-length Twilight Zone episode...albeit with a much more upbeat finale.

• I've got to give a positive review to Troll Hunter, which I finally got the chance to see recently. A very interesting concept, although I take issue with the way in which the filmmakers felt the need to perpetuate the whole myth about trolls smelling the blood of Christian men, while scientifically debunking all other troll-related folklore. That seemed a bit incongruous. Still, all in all, an ingenious film I recommend highly.

• I'm surprised that my recent Vault poll to determine the favorite Abbott & Costello horror comedy after A&C Meet Frankenstein resulted in A&C Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff as the winner. While I enjoy all their flicks, I just didn't think Bud & Lou were at their best in that one. Maybe it was because Karloff was such a minor player in the movie, but I personally find A&C Meet the Invisible Man, A&C Meet the Mummy, A&C Meet Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde and Hold That Ghost! to all be superior.

• Speaking of my second favorite comedy duo (sorry, but Laurel & Hardy rule all), a recent viewing of A&C's horror comedies got me thinking... Can you imagine if the boys were around today, and making movies like Abbott & Costello Meet Jason, or Abbott & Costello Meet Pinhead? I can see it now... "We will tear your soul apart!" "Ohhhhh CH-CHICK!!!"

• It truly was a blissful experience hosting the one and only Psycho at the Avon Theatre in Stamford with Captain Cruella. As I said that night, Hitchcock's masterpiece is not just a mere cult horror classic, but one of the finest motion pictures ever made, period. It's one of those movies that's a joy to watch from beginning to end. Now I just need to get the Universal 50th anniversary DVD release...

• I'd like to wish a belated happy 10th birthday to the VoH's cutest little correspondent, my dear little Zombelina. At her birthday party a couple weeks ago, I took it upon myself to entertain the pajama-clad fifth graders with a screening of the original House on Haunted Hill, my girl's favorite horror movie. Not a bad follow-up to last year's Brides of Dracula, wouldn't you say?

• And speaking of pint-sized Vault of Horror contributors, I'm proud to say that my other progeny, Skeleton Jack, has at long last started up his very own blog, and I'd appreciate it if you went over and gave it a look. It's called Jack's Movie Town, and wouldn't you know it, his first two movie reviews are for horror flicks. I guess it's that whole apple/tree thing...

• Captain Cruella and I were recently asked to be the subjects of a most interesting and evocative cemetery photo shoot in the wiles of Staten Island. Through the talents of photographer Laura Pennace, we were transformed into a couple of star-crossed ghostly lovers. Best of all, it gave me a chance to play dress-up, which I always appreciate. Take a gander at the full photo shoot right here...

• It's almost the end of the year, which means it's already time to start thinking about the Cyber Horror Awards. Can you believe it? The first-ever horror movie awards voted on by online critics is now proudly entering its fourth year, and I'll be recruiting some judges to help me with nominations shortly. Then it goes out to all you blogger folk to vote on the best of 2011. Stay tuned, as nominations will probably be announced some time in early February...

Retro Review: The Evil of Frankenstein (1964)

I pride myself on being a great fan, admirer and aficionado of Hammer horror--in a lot of ways superior to Universal, if I may be so bold (although that's a debate for a future post). Ever since I was a child, I've been entranced by the technicolor blood, buxom wenches, uproarious scores and quaint period designs of the Hammer classics. And yet, one which I had never before seen was Freddy Francis' The Evil of Frankenstein, a 1964 chestnut which was the third of six films made in Hammer's Frankenstein series.

It's included on Universal's Hammer box set, which I've had for a number of years now and also includes such gems as The Curse of the Werewolf and Kiss of the Vampire. Yet, this particular one I had never seen before, although I had always wanted to. And over the Thanksgiving weekend, I finally took the opportunity. Although not the best of the Hammer series, and certainly not the best Frankenstein-inspired motion picture, I'm glad I took the time.

One of the reasons I had always been drawn to seeing this film is that it was a bit of a departure from the rest of the studio's Frankenstein franchise. Starting with The Curse of Frankenstein in 1957, Hammer had made it a point to reinvent the classic monster series, without relying on the elements that had made the Universal entries of the 1930s and 1940s so iconic. However, although part of the reason for this was undoubtedly creative innovation, another part was also legal necessity, as Hammer could not infringe upon Universal's intellectual property.

That changed with The Evil of Frankenstein, however. Whereas the previous two films, Curse of and Revenge of, had been distributed in the United States by Warner Bros. and Columbia Pictures, respectively, the third entry was actually picked up for distribution by Universal Studios itself, which meant that for the first time, Hammer had carte blanche to rely upon the devices used previously in Universal's own Frankenstein series. And so, the classic Jack Pierce monster design could be used, and the recognizable laboratory sets could be duplicated.

While an interesting notion, the result is a mixed bag. It's fascinating to see Hammer take a crack at the Universal approach, but in the end, what made Hammer's efforts so memorable is that the studio always strove to make its own mark rather than ape someone else's work. As it is, old reliable Hammer makeup man Roy Ashton is just not in his element trying to tread in the footsteps of Jack Pierce. What we get here is a second-rate copy of the traditional Boris Karloff square-headed, platform-shoe wearing Creature, here played by legendary New Zealand wrestler Kiwi Kingston, whose zombie-like performance can only conjure up a fraction of the pathos even Glenn Strange put forth in the Universal days, let alone Karloff. Similarly, Hammer art director Don Mingaye's sets are lush and intriguing as always, but are only doing what Charles D. Hall's revolutionary work did for Universal some thirty years prior.

The plot follows the trail of Dr. Frankenstein and his assistant Hans, as they attempt to put their financial situation back on track so the doctor can return to his life's work of reanimating the dead. When he returns to his ancestral home in the village of Karlstaad, he inexplicably discovers his original creation buried in ice underneath his property. Equally inexplicable is the fact that the Creature now looks nothing like the Christopher Lee version from the original, and instead suddenly resembles the Creature of the Universal Frankenstein series. The origin of the Creature is also retold in flashback, once again retconned to more resemble the Colin Clive/Boris Karloff origin sequence of the 1931 film. It's worth noting, however, that this is the only Hammer Frankenstein film other than the original to feature the actual Frankenstein monster--but it's also obvious that this was only done to take advantage of the license granted the studio by Universal.

Still, as with any Hammer production, there is a lot to recommend the film. Peter Cushing is excellent as always as the good Dr. Frankenstein, and I'll submit that his interpretation is probably the most textured, complex and compelling of anyone who has ever tackled the role. The great Peter Woodthorpe, known to many as the voice of Gollum in both the landmark BBC Lord of the Rings radio adaptation as well as the Ralph Bakshi animated version, is a delight as the alcoholic, unscrupulous carnival hypnotist Prof. Zoltan, the film's lead heavy. Studio head Anthony Hinds, writing as he typically did under the pen name John Elder, turns in a taut script that is up to snuff with his work on such favorites as The Brides of Dracula, Night Creatures and The Reptile.

The picture probably could have benefited from the directorial leadership of Hammer standby Terence Fisher, who was set to helm the film before being injured in a car accident. In his place, the project as handed over to his cameraman Freddy Francis. Francis had previously directed minor Hammer faves Paranoiac and Nightmare, and was far from a tested commodity when he took on The Evil of Frankenstein. He would go on to direct other minor Hammer pictures, with his most notable work being Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, and his best known film would have to be Amicus Pictures' 1973 adaptation of Tales from the Crypt.

As a die-hard Hammer fan, I will always welcome the chance to curl up on a dark night with one of their evocative, atmospheric and intense films, no matter if its one of their very best or a lesser-known effort. There's no doubt the original Curse of Frankenstein is the high watermark of Hammer horror, and The Evil of Frankenstein is but a shadow of that film. An enjoyable shadow, but a shadow nonetheless. Hammer still put out a horror flick well worth seeing, but the bottom line is that the studio made its name by charting its own course in horror, not following someone else's lead. The Evil of Frankenstein is an interesting experiment, if an ill-advised one.