31 DAYS OF HORROR 2020-Day 18: THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957)

Taking the concept of "homemade" a tad too far.

Here we are, at the Hammer imprint's Ground Zero. 

Though Britain's Hammer Studios had been around for a while, it was 1957's THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN that put them on the map (along with the following year's HORROR OF DRACULA). WWII was only 12 years in the past, so memories of real-life horror were still quite fresh, and it was also the era of the fugue state between the Profumo scandal and England losing its cherry to the sexual and psychedelic excesses of the swinging Sixties, so the U.K. simply was not ready for Hammer's flavor of shocks. The Universal cycle was swiftly becoming an antique during a market dominated by alien invaders and gigantic monstrosities spawned by the dawn of the atomic bomb, so something new was needed to sate audiences. What Hammer brought to the table was lush (some would say garish) color, a pervasive Gothic atmosphere that felt like dark fairytales for grownups, a more "adult" sensibility — remember, the British had just endured WWII, so hiding the nastiness of the world was no longer an option — stories geared more toward the audience's experience as adults, a reasonable amount of "sauce" in the form of generous, heaving bosoms, and the groundbreaking depiction of then-copious amounts of fire engine-red blood (that always looked to me like Sherwin-Williams house paint). Hammer kicked off their horror run proper by reinventing horror's two biggest stars, Frankenstein and Dracula, by putting spins on them that worked from the late-1950's/early-1960's, and in the case of Frankenstein, the focus was shifted from the creature to the creator.

If you have seen pretty much any Frankenstein movie, you know the basic building blocks (and the fact that only the germ of them were cribbed from the classic source novel):

• Obsessed scientist with a drive to create a living man from the dead bits and pieces of assorted corpses
• A hapless, misunderstood creature that did not ask to be created, possessed of superhuman strength
• The robbing of graves and pilfering of necessary organs from medical schools
• A female character to get in the way of the ghoulish medical shenanigans, often betrothed to the scientist
• Some sort of rampage by the monster
• A tragic climax

All of those elements are present in THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN,  so there's little need to bother recounting the details of film's plot. All you need to know is that it's the 1800's in Switzerland and we are introduced to the aristocratic Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing, in one of his career-defining roles), a wealthy scientific/medical genius who, with the aid of his tutor-turned-lab partner, Paul (Robert Urquhart), builds a man from random deceased components and seeks to grant it life. The pair discover the secret of life (which is conveniently not explained to the audience) and they have the hanged corpse of a highway man with which to get started. Now, all they need is a decent head and, preferably, the brain of a genius. As things escalate, Paul suffers bouts of conscience, while the baron forges ahead with a single-mindedness that can be read as madness.

 

 The Baron (Peter Cushing) goes shopping.

Matters are complicated when the Baron's cousin, Elizabeth (Hazel Court), arrives to take up residence at Victor's mansion. The Baron supported her and her mother since she was a child, but now her mother is dead and she has been promised to the Baron in an arranged marriage, which she's totally down with, but her presence throws a hitch into the Baron's ongoing affair with Justine (Valerie Gaunt), his lusty FRench maid. It all comes to head, and once it does, the Baron finds himself awaiting execution by guillotine, recounting his story to a priest in his dungeon cell. 

The film was a massive hit, despite the open revulsion expressed by critics and certain sectors of the general public over its then-shocking bloodiness, medical gore, and mention of the French maid being made out-of-wedlock pregnant by the Baron. Other than those daring elements, it's a well-made but pretty standard Gothic yarn, with its other big difference being that it was made in color, which it certainly took advantage of.

If I have one gripe about the film, it's that its creature, brought to (un) life by Christopher Lee (who, like Cushing, became an icon for his subsequent Hammer roles, most notable his especially evil take on Count Dracula), really doesn't resonate much, other than for his visual aspect.

 

Christopher Lee as one of the most pathetic variations on Frankenstein's monster.

The creature has no personality and does not speak, as the genius brain was severely damaged during an altercation between the Baron and Paul, and it moves with an impaired stiffness that does not allow it to do much. It does manage to escape briefly and shamble about the local woods, but over the course of the story the creature racks up exactly two kills, both offscreen. If you're into Frankenstein movies, then this is definitely not the film for you. Some of us, however, are in it for the monster's creator, and here is where things get interesting.

Peter Cushing, redefining Frankenstein from a mere mad scientist to an obsessed and cruel aristocratic sociopath.

Hammer's stroke of genius with its Frankenstein franchise was making the Baron the true monster of the cycle, and relegating the creature to mostly the role of being a goal to be striven for. The Baron rich and thinks himself beyond the laws of man and the Church, and he will stop at nothing to achieve his ends. Ghoulish grave-robbery and acquisition of fresh organs, abuse of those around him without a second thought, utter disregard for general human compassion and decency, the list goes on and would be further refined as the series progressed. He's a total hateful piece of shit here, but this is just the blossoming of the cold and vicious assholism that he would display further down the line. Cushing is always a delight, but his Baron goes so against his actual nice old man personality, it's astonishing. But, hey, such ifs the pint of acting.

THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN, though rather tepid by today's standards, is a landmark and as such it is worthy of your time. It's not my favorite of the Hammer Frankensteins, but it's certainly a good entry with which to get the ball rolling. A solid origin story and definitely recommended.

Poster for the British theatrical release.

PARK SLOPE SATURDAY NIGHT

 I just aurally witnessed an epic ultra-ghetto curse-out.

While enjoying the remainder of my dinner, a car horn began loudly honking on the street outside. this went on for a good half-hour, only stopping occasionally, and it was just as annoying as you would imagine, especially at this hour on a Saturday night when thing would hopefully be quiet. (And it's also a night where the Stoop Louts are absent, so no matter what I apparently cannot have even one night of peace and quiet.)

The honking continued and I debated going outside to ask the person in the car to stop, but another local beat me to it, politely yelling out "Would you please stop honking your horn??" That was met with a bellowed and extremely hostile "TELL THE MUTHAFUKKA TA COME OUT HERE AN' MOVE HIS MUTHAFUKKIN' CAR! AND FUCK YOU!!! FUCK OFF!!!" after which she continued with the honking.

Another half hour of intermittent honking ensued, until the owner of the car that was blocking the honker's exit finally showed up. As the guy put his key into his car's door, the woman who was pinned in got out of her car and let fly with the following: "MUTHAFUKKA, I BIN TRYIN' TA GET MY CAR OUTTA HERE FOR A FUKKIN' HOUR, BUT YOU KEPT ME PINNED!!!" The guy tried to apologize, but she was NOT having it. "FUCK YO' 'SORRY!!!" I GOT THINGS TA DO AN' YOU BEEN KEEPIN' ME HERE!!! FUCK YOU!!! START YO' MUTHAFUKKIN CAR, MUTHAFUKKA!!!"

With that, the woman got back in her car and waited for the guy to pull his car out of the space. I have never in my life heard a car peel out so fast.

COSTUME IN PROGRESS

The other day In posted this costume sketch for this year's Halloween costume, which I initially referred to as "Afro Plague Doctor," then "Plague Brutha,' but now I'm thinking of calling it "Soul Brutha," as the character is here to steal the souls of trick-or-treaters.

Since then the assorted bits and bobs that will compose the outfit have begun arriving and I have had fun test-driving some of them. 

The array of components thus far, and me test-driving the mask with the wig and hooded cloak. I'm still awaiting the feathered ruff for my neck.

Regarding the warlock's staff, it’s a three-section item that screws together for assembly, and the plastic on the “wood” part is relatively sturdy but not meant to be leaned on. It’s for carrying only, or hanging up as decoration by the loop in the skull, and the screw-in sections are a bit dodgy. I’m going to find someone with a Dremel tool to remove the screw section from the head and “leather” part with the runes and shave down the resulting opening to fit, so I can place it atop one of my taller, more durable rattan kung fu poles. I will sport in place of the traditional plague doctor's cane.

The warlock's staff, pre-customization.

I tried out the plague doctor's mask, the oversized afro wig, and the hooded cloak together, and I was quite satisfied with how it all looked, though there's still plenty of rook for tweaking once everything is in hand.

When I get the full outfit together I want to walk around on Halloween in hope of encountering kids, so I can call to them in a demonic voice — “Come to me, child...COME HERE.” — and those who are brave enough to come to me get rewarded by getting to take candy from the bag I will be carrying. I hope I can find a proper plastic pumpkin for that purpose.

STAY TUNED.

 

31 DAYAS OF HORROR 2020-Day 17: I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE (1943)

The titular event.

After over fifty years of movies showcasing Romero-style living dead , it's sometimes difficult to separate that perception from what came before NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968) broke new ground, thus establishing nearly all zombie tropes going forward. Pre-Romero zombie movies featured revenants based on what was then known of traditional Haitian zombies, meaning the creatures in question were merely enslaved West Indian plantation workers who were rendered shambling automatons via the administering of assorted drugs. That effect was passed off as being straight-up voodoo, and though we know it's not supernatural in origin, the superstition still persists. Anyway, a bunch of black guys shuffling around aimlessly while posing no real threat makes for pretty tepid cinema, and that's exactly what I got when I finally sat through I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE, a film many hail as a classic. I can see how it would have had impact some seventy-plus years ago, but to today's audience it's little more than a curio crafted by the makers of the far superior CAT PEOPLE.

I WALKED WIITH A ZOMBIE is basically a standard 1940's "exotic" romance picture, bolstered by solid performances, an intelligent script, and atmospheric art direction. The story, about what transpires when a young Canadian nurse is tasked with caring for the comatose/somnambulistic wife of a plantation owner. Some time earlier, the wife achieved her present state for reasons revealed during the climax, and for all the world it seems that she has been made into a classical zombie, and the only way to cure her might be to subject her to a voodoo ritual performed by some of the plantation's natives. Simultaneously, the nurse falls for the plantation owner, so the complication is what would happen if the missus is cured?

It's by no means a bad movie, in fact it's quite good, but if you're going in looking for any kind of actual thrills or supernatural content, especially after a steady diet of gory flesh-eating "roamer" epics, this film ain't necessarily for you. It's worth seeing for genre completists and so one can discuss it from an informed point of view, but it's very much of its era and likely will not work for a a 21st century audience. I will, however, give it praise for its treatment of black characters during an era chock-a-block with offensive racial content and coon stereotypes. All of the plantation's blacks are depicted as intelligent, well-spoken humn beings, and the fact that slavery was an atrocity is very directly addressed. Kudos for that.

Poster from the theatrical release.

31 DAYS OF HORROR 2020-Day 16: NEVER HIKE ALONE (2017)

When you should have heeded the "NO TRESPASSING" sign.

Hiking vlogger Kyle McCleod (Andrew Leighty), armed with a backpack full of supplies and his GoPro video camera, parks his jeep in the woods and sets off on foot by himself to chronicle his journey along a mapped-out path to a picturesque summit, a trail noted as advised only for advanced-level hikers. He wanders around the silent forest, noting everything in his DIY travelogue, and eventually he encounters a closed area with a prominent "No Trespassing" sign, which poses a problem as his path leads him directly through the forbidden stretch. He crosses it anyway and in no time a sinister presence lurks in the near distance, avoiding Kyle's line of sight with superhuman speed, agility, and stealth. As Kyle forges ahead, he unearths the remains of a summer camp's entrance sign, and it reads "CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE." Kyle recognizes the name and recounts the events of FRIDAY THE 13th (1980) for the camera as he pokes around the abandoned remains of the former summer camp, now a legendary site of multiple murders. But is the derelict camp truly deserted?

That would be a hard "NO."

Yes, Jason Voorhees still haunts the camp grounds and Kyle has violated his territory, much to his great regret. What ensues is Kyle attempting to survive as he, all by his lonesome, faces cinema's most implacable and prolific slasher.

NEVER HIKE ALONE is writer/director Vicente DiSanti's 53-minute fan film love letter to the FRIDAY THE 13th series (and its fans), and I think it says a hell of a lot that a fan film  is arguably better than any film in the actual franchise. A lot of thought went into this effort and it rewards the audience by treating its viewers with respect for their intelligence and also by eschewing nearly all of the annoying tropes that defined the series. With just one character to focus on and get to know, we become genuinely invested in Kyle as his well-intended trek goes horribly awry, and we root for him to survive, unlike the cannon fodder ciphers that pass as characters in the legit franchise. This is a FRIDAY THE 13th movie that proves a Jason outing doesn't have to suck, and the only missing element is the gratuitous nudity, since Jason and Kyle are the only characters (excluding two EMT's who arrive during the final act).

If you, like me, love the FRIDAY THE 13th series in spite of all good judgement, NEVER HIKE ALONE is a must-see in order to experience what can be done with a Jason movie when brains, solid filmmaking, and a simple, solid script are a part of the formula. FRIDAY THE 13th could be so much more than just a cheap, mindless charnel house and jiggle fest, and this humble not-for-profit fan effort points the way to what could and should be done with it.

Promotional image for the film.

PRE-EMPTIVE HALLOWEEN SHENANIGANS: THE MASK OF THE BLACK DEATH

 Due to the pandemic not abating anytime soon, this year's Halloween is basically a wash and trick-or-treaters everywhere will just have to suck up the disappointment. It's simply a matter of common sense and safety, so there you go. That said, as an adult in NYC, I plan to get gecked-out and wander my neighborhood, hopefully creeping-out the few who will be out and about.

This year's concept is certainly era-appropriate but with my signature spin on things. I'll be doing "Plague Brutha," a SOUL TRAIN take on the medieval plague doctor.

The concept sketch.

I ordered the various components and they have begun arriving, with the leather mask showing up first. Upon taking it out of the packaging, I test-drove it and it took a little while to get used to breathing in it.

Masked.

That was sorted by stuffing the bill with a black sock and adjusting the strap at the back for a more precise fit. The eyes are blue-tinted lenses that, when looking through them from the inside, provide almost normal-colored vision. It's quite comfy, so let's see how it all fits together with the rest of the costume, when the other components arrive. STAY TUNED.

31 DAYS OF HORROR 2020-Day 15: SHIN GODZILLA (2016)

Big G reimagined for the 2010's.

So, SHIN GODZILLA... It's a Japanese-made Godzilla film, so after 31 previous films in Toho's series, you know the drill, so there's pretty much no point in citing the plot details. Simply put, it's our favorite anthropomorphized force of nature reimagined for the umpteenth time, only geared for the 2010's.

This first genuine (meaning "made by Toho") Godzilla movie since 2004's GODZILLA: FINAL WARS gives us a soft reboot that is more or less "Godzilla a la Cloverfield" in that it chronicles what happens when a new and nastier Big G surfaces for the first time, only with a more serious-minded "grownup" take on the proceedings. (It's arguably among the more dour of the Godzilla entries, right up there with the 1954 original,  1984's THE RETURN OF GODZILLA, 1989's GODZILLA VERSUS BIOLLANTE, and 2001's GODILLA, MOTHRA, AND KING GHIDORAH: GIANT MONSTERS ALL-OUT ATTACK.) The narrative is basically a governmental disaster procedural that's about 90% rapid fire talking heads dealing with the crisis, but the relatively small monster action is more than worth the price of admission. Big G unveils some new abilities and never before has his atomic breath been so devastating. Coupled with a fin-generated photon attack, Godzilla's atomic fire basically levels Tokyo and it is FUCKING SPECTACULAR. When I saw this in the theater, the packed crowd of Godzilla fans was genuinely awed, and we're a hard bunch to stun. 

                                                                 Cue Blue Oyster Cult.

BOTTOM LINE: Don't go expecting much in the way of tons of monster stuff, but what we do get is Godzilla at its most destructively epic. Oh, and to me the pacing was slow as hell, which was not helped by the film's length and talking head abundance. Also, Godzilla is no longer a personification of the atomic bomb. He's now the result of improper dumping of nuclear waste, which I do NOT like at all. Losing the bomb angle robs the character of a great deal of his dread power.

Poster from the Japanese theatrical release.

31 DAYS OF HORROR 2020-Day 14: THE BLOB (1958)

 

Horrific things come in small packages...

A meteorite plummets to earth and lands in the woods near a podunk American town. A nearby hobo comes across the cooling meteorite and pokes it with a stick, prompting it to crack open and reveal a grapefruit-sized gelatinous mass. The old duffer picks up the goo with the stick and examines it as is slowly oozes down the wood, turning it upside down before it comes into contact with his hand. Unfortunately for him, the mass suddenly launches itself up the stick, engulfing the man's hand.

The scene that taught me as a child NOT to poke at unknown substances under any circumstances.

Unable to dislodge the goo, the now terrified hobo staggers out of the woods and into the nearby town in search of help, as the mass has begun consuming his flesh. What follows is a tale of escalation as the implacable titular entity mindlessly rampages through the small town, consuming victim after victim and turning strawberry red in the process (presumably due to all of the flesh and blood it absorbs) and exponentially gaining mass. The only ones who are aware of the threat are a number of local teens (all played by actors who are clearly too old for the roles, including screen legend Steve McQueen, who was 28 when this was released), and though they attempt to alert assorted parents and authorities, no adults believe them because it's the era of fear of "juvenile delinquency" and general mistrust of teenagers, and the local kids are perceived a pack of no-good hot-rodding troublemakers.

THE BLOB is not a full-on shocker, but it is packed with memorable set pieces that demonstrate what a truly horrifying concept the creature is. It's utterly mindless and unknowable, fueled by an insatiable hunger, and its amorphous physiognomy allows it to use through grates, under doors, you name it. It's also eerily silent, wordlessly conveying its lust for sustenance. It's also notable for be being (perhaps unintentionally) Lovecraftian monster, as it is cosmic in origin and quite beyond our understanding. It's brilliantly realized and could not be more simple. It's just a big, hungry blob of space-jelly, and there's fuck all you can do to put a stop to it. Well, that last part isn;t true, and when the solution is found, it's so elementary and simple, it's absolute genius.

The Blob checks out a double-feature.

 

In what is arguably the film's most memorable sequence, the Blob oozes its way into a packed movie theater and does its thing, and when it exits it looks for all the world like a big, nasty ballsack. That scene never fails to elicit giggles from the viewing audience.

"Jesus, dad! Put on some goddamned pants!!!

 

Since its release in 1958, THE BLOB has gone on to become a minor cult classic (undaunted by its rather turgid pacing) and something of a cultural milestone due to the sheer originality of its monster. It's an entry-level effort for monster kids and it endears with its textbook trope-setting simplicity, thanks to it pretty much being the Ground Zero of "local teens versus disbelieving grownups" horror trope.

Lastly, it sports one of the most memorable theme songs of all time, penned by no less that Burt Bacharach and Mack David. The second I hear the opening guitar strum of this, I'm instantly transported back to being eight years old, seated in front of my parents' massive wooden-bodied solid-state color television set for a screening of NYC's legendary THE 4:30 MOVIE during one of its beloved "Monster Week" showcases.

   

 

Though I was a seasoned horror kid from the age of three, a monster like the Blob was like nothing I had encountered up to that point in my development, and I forever love it for that.

Poster from the theatrical release.

31 DAYS OF HORROR 2020-Day 13: INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (1994)

 Two friends sharing a meal.

In present day San Francisco, a journalist (Christian Slater) scores the interview of a lifetime when he follows a mysterious stranger and asks him to tell his story. The mystery man is one Louis de Pointe du Lac (Brad Pitt), who claims to be a 24-year-old who became a vampire in 1791. Understandably skeptical at first, the interviewer is soon convinced of Luis' claim by displays of his inhuman speed and clearly otherworldly pallor and eyes. Luis then recounts his tale:

Distraught over the death of his wife in childbirth (along with the baby), Louis, the owner of a slavery-era plantation just south of New Orleans,  gives up on life and seeks death by misadventure. During an evening out, he is rescued from a knife-wielding pimp by Lestat de Lioncourt (Tom Cruise), a vampire dandy who senses Louis's bleak mental state. Lestat briefly feeds on Louis, but leaves him alive in a state straddling mortality and vampirism, giving Luis the choice to join him in eternal life. Louis accepts and Lestat allows him to feed on his vampiric blood, which transforms Louis into a creature of the night. The pair go about the nighttime scene in and around New Orleans, with Lestat merrily feasting on three kills per night — a young woman as an appetizer, a gelded boy as the first course, and a member of the aristocracy as the main dish — while Louis, who cannot bring himself to murder innocent people, instead makes do with rats and chickens (which do not satisfy like human blood).

Louis does his best to resist but eventually gives in to his unnatural bloodlust, which only delights Lestat, for now he believes he has at last found a true partner in his murderous immorality. But when the plantation's slaves start succumbing to mysterious deaths, the voodoo-practicing slaves, who fear Lestat and believe him to be the devil, embark on a revolt. Louis, who kills a favored slave (Thandie Newton) when unable to resist his urges, is disgusted with himself and the whole (un-) lifestyle, so he orders all of his slaves to flee as free men, for he and Lestat are indeed the devil, and then puts his home to the torch.

The pair flee to New Orleans, where they feed on the local prostitute talent, but, disgusted again, Louis wanders the streets in a state of bummed-out contemplation. He makes his way to a section where a plague is killing the locals, and it is there that he encounters Claudia (Kirsten Dunst), a pre-pubescent girl whose mother has perished from the disease. Seeking to do her a kindness by killing her (while also sating his hunger), Louis puts the bite on Claudia, but it is Lestat who converts her to vampirism with his blood. Sensing their relationship needed something to unify him and Louis, Lestat creates Claudia as a their "daughter" who will give them someone to parent and thus make them a family. 

Lestat, Louis, and Claudia on a family outing.

In no time, Claudia proves herself to be a born killer, far outstripping Louis as Lestat's hoped-for protege. But what neither adult considered was the damage that would be done by Claudia mentally and emotionally growing up but being forever trapped in the unchanging body of an 11-year-old. Filled with resentment, Claudia engineers a way to remove Lestat from the pictures so she and Louis can travel the world in search of others of their kind. After years of fruitless questing, the pair finally encounter other vampires, in fact a whole theater troupe of them, and then things get really interesting...

I read the novel of INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE during my junior year in high school (1981-1982) and I enjoyed it a lot, even going so far as to be inspired to draw a family portrait of the central trio. (A piece that long ago vanished into the ether.) It was arguably the first popular novel to truly get into the heads of its monsters, and though they committed heinous acts, it was impossible to to relate to and sympathize with them. Anne Rice's novel was the first vampire novel brings up the now-tired trope of the alluring, glamorous undead, along with focusing the narrative on deeper themes instead of merely providing a "shocker" of a yarn. The novel was written as a means for its author to come to terms with the death of her four-year-old daughter from cancer, and her grief and general sadness are all over every page. A funfeel-good read it definitely is not, and that attitude carries over into the film adaptation. Though the movie obviously cannot convey the story's themes of loneliness, family dysfunction, and pervasive bleakness with the same depth of prose, the translation to the screen does a damned fine job, bolstered by lavish production values and a rock-solid cast. Tom Cruise at first seemed to have been miscast as Lestat but, and I say this as someone who's read the first five out of the 11-book series, his usual obnoxious smarmy manner is just right for conveying Lestat's assholism and arrogance. Brad Pitt was likewise and unlikely pick for Louis, but his face communicates Louis's world-weary melancholy to great effect. But it's wee Kirsten Dunst who steals the film with her stunning portrayal of Claudia. 

Kirsten Dunst as the bloodthirsty Claudia.

In the novel Claudia is turned when she's only 5, which would have been impossible to do with a kid actress that young, so aging her up a bit was a matter of necessity. Fortunately Dunst was up to the challenge, and she absolutely convinces as an eternally young grown woman trapped in the body of a child. It's a horrifying concept, and she knocked it out of the park.

The novel drew its power from being a multi-player character study of infernal creatures, ephasizing sadness and creep-factor over actual visceral scares. The scares put forth by the novel are strictly conceptual, though there's certainly no shortage of blood and gruesomeness, and that carries over into the film. It's not scary, per se, but it very eerie/creepy in content, and there's a LOT of Karo syrup blood on display. In short, INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE is horror for an adult audience that can groove on its MASTERPIECE THEATER vibe and flavor, and truly enjoying what it has on offer is very much dependent upon having a certain amount of experiences with the misery of adult life and its existential horrors. Recommended for vampire fans and for most audiences of 16 and older. Younger viewers will likely find it too boring and nowhere near gory of shocking enough, but I wholeheartedly dig it.

Poster from the theatrical release. I get that Tom Cruise was the biggest draw in the film, but this poster is flagrantly misleading. This is Louis's story all the way.

 

31 DAYS OF HORROR 2020-Day 12: VAMPIRE CIRCUS (1972)

The Serbian village of Stetl is home to the vile Count Mitterhaus, a vampire who preys on young local girls for sustenance while sating his baser desires with Anna (Domini Blyth), the nubile wife of schoolmaster Albert Müller (Laurence Payne) and the vampire's very willing lover. 

                                         Evil for evil's sake: Count Mitterhaus (Robert Tayman).

Müller, fed up with the serial decimation of female youth (plus to say nothing of his being cuckolded by an undead suckface), rallies the village's men and leads a raid on the Count's castle, interrupting him in the midst of a lusty romp with Anna. The ensuing battle sees the deaths of a few of the men, but Albert drives home the needed stake through the heart. As his unnatural life force ebbs, the Count curses the village men, their children, and the viallge itself to death while Anna is scourged by the townsfolk. Even though she betrayed him for another man, er, vampire, Albert calls a halt to the beating, allowing Anna to flee back into the castle, which is promptly put to the torch by the rabble. But, unseen by the incensed villagers, Anna hauls the Count's body into then depths of the castle, where, with his dying breath, he instructs her to contact the Circus of Night, specifically his cousin Emil, who will "know what to do." As the castle burns, Anna flees the scene. Fifteen years later, Stetl has been closed off from the rest of the world as it is wracked by a deadly plague, a disease believed by men of science to be a pandemic, but what is in actuality part of the Count's curse in dread action. Into this bleak tableau arrives the caravan of the Circus of Night, featuring an eerie assortment of performers, all of whom are vampires, shape-shifters, of other creatures of indeterminate nature.

What we get with VAMPIRE CIRCUS is a well-mounted but middling effort that reveals the once-groundbreaking and relevant Hammer studios on its last legs, a brand done in by changing times and the permissiveness wrought by the 1960's and early-1970's. Where Hammer had once been a trendsetter with its then-shocking amounts of gore and saucy sexual content, international works had over the course of a decade eclipsed them with what filmmakers could get away with. The splashes of bright Sherwin-Williams red paint that stood in for blood now looked quaint and tepid when compared to the gore-fests of the like of Herschel Gordon Lewis and the nudity now found in European releases rendered Hammer's tight bodices and generous, heaving bosoms passe, so in order to compete Hammer upped the gore and grue, and the nudity moved well past the occasional mouthwatering decolletage into the realm of frequent toplessness, nekkid ass, and minor glimpses of bush, all at the expense of narrative quality. Hammer's stock in trade had been the Gothic made palatable to the masses, telling those stories with genuine suspense, lavish production design, a signature flavor and sound, and frequent reinvention of horror tropes that had been long established, most notably by the Universal monster cycle of the 1930's and 1940's, but the audience of the Civil Rights and Vietnam era were more sophisticated, having been exposed to the real-life horrors of the social unrest and military conflicts in clear representation in footage broadcast on the nightly news. Horror grew up in the 1960's, along with its audience, so the fare became harder-edged and more nihilistic, so Hammer's "Grimm's fairy tales for grownups" were a casualty of that evolution.

VAMPIRE CIRCUS, while not bad by any stretch, plays like what it is, specifically a catalog of Hammer vampire movie tropes, minus the creative spark that made their vampire efforts so memorable. It possesses a certain amount of atmosphere, but by the time of its release nearly every one of its aspects is as familiar as a beloved old cat that's getting on in years and clearly does not have long before the inevitable. The only new wrinkle in this is some of the bizarre performers in the circus (including a pre-Darth Vader David Prowse), but they are not all that well-realized. Yes, this was a last gasp and it showed. 

A pre-Darth Vader David Prowse takes a shotgun blast...and keeps on coming.

 If you ask me, the final Hammer piece that displayed real inspiration was 1974's CAPTAIN KRONOS, VAMPIRE HUNTER, after which the studio hobbled along until ceasing production in 1979. The company had enjoyed over two decades of trend-setting, beginning with THE QUATERMASS X-PERIMENT (1955), and kicking off proper with THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957), and THE HORROR OF DRACULA (1958), with many worthy films following in their wake and adding up to an impressive legacy. If you love the Hammer brand (when it's firing on all cylinders), then by all means give VAMPIRE CIRCUS a look, but don't anything particularly engrossing or all that fresh. It's an okay way to kill 87 minutes, but that's about it.

 

Poster from the theatrical release.