Showing posts with label Denholm Elliott. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Denholm Elliott. Show all posts

Friday, August 1, 2014

"The House That Dripped Blood" (1971) d/ Peter Duffell

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As we usher in August, normally a tentative month here at the Wop for whatever crazy unforeseeable reasons emerge at the time, having only posted four out of seven years during Augustus' tribute from Julius Caesar, when he created the Julian calendar way back in 45 B.C. .That's probably because somewhere in my deep subconscious, I still honor Romulus' ten month Roman calendar, or maybe I've just been honing my sloth skills, Deadly Sins-wise ( holy rollers: does physical/mental laziness count?). I'm not entirely sure at this point. Speaking of points, there really wasn't one just now, as this review, a classic horror anthology from Amicus Studios starring no less than Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Denholm Elliott, Jon Pertwee, and Ingrid Pitt and consisting of four excellent short stories from noted horror author, Robert "Psycho" Bloch,  technically makes it five outta eight, and two years in a row, now. When yer hot, yer hot.

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"Here's the bastard what done in Mr. Green Jeans and strangled Mister Moose for his ping pong balls..."
As a police inspector's investigation of a missing actor leads him directly to a house with a varied history of bad fortune, misery, and death, we meet the prior tenants of the residence through flashbacks. In "Method For Murder", we meet a horror author (Denholm Elliott) trying to bang out his latest novel, about a creepy guy with bad dental hygiene that can't keep his hands to himself, and his wife (Joanna Dunham), who looks more and more like the next victim when her husband starts seeing his character, come to life.
Next, "Waxworks" finds a man named Grayson (Peter Cushing) pining for a bygone love of yesteryear, until he stumbles into a local wax museum to find one of the ghoulishly realistic figures inside bears a striking resemblance to the very woman in his thoughts, a woman who's also no stranger to a visiting chum named Neville (Joss Ackland).

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Prop Peter Cushing head? Check.
In "Sweets To The Sweet", we meet a strict, cruel man named Reid (Christopher Lee) who hires a nanny (Nyree Dawn Porter) for his young daughter Jane (Chloe Franks), who he disallows any contact from other children, and toys, heh, toys are right out, as well. It's just that, all of the candles, save for four, have gone missing. Jane, do you know anything about their sudden disappearance? Next, in "The Cloak", we are introduced to a flamboyant genre actor named Paul Henderson (Jon Pertwee), who's trying to lend an air of authenticity to his latest B-movie concerning vampires, having bought a cloak from a mysterious shop to help him sink his fangs into the role, except he feels suddenly compelled to sink his fangs into his co-star Carla (Ingrid Pitt) instead, the moment he puts it on...Afterwards, the inspector decides to check out the house in question, for himself, against the warnings of the real estate agent. See what happens next, for yourselves.

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Having negated the Silurian threat, Doctor Who had become the sweetest mack in the universe.
Duffell would later return to genre work, directing two episodes of the excellent Roald Dahl's Tales of the Unexpected series on television. Jon Pertwee was the first actor I remember seeing as Doctor Who, a role he portrayed from 1970 on through to 1974, when he was replaced by the toothy Tom Baker. His son, Sean, you'll remember from things like Dog Soldiers (2002) and Wilderness (2006), among others. Chloe Franks, whose first role would be in Joan Crawford mess, Trog (1970),  would also appear in Tales From the Crypt (1972) and Whoever Slew Auntie Roo? (1972), before later turning up in 1977's The Uncanny. Joss Ackland has never stopped acting, to this day, most memorably (to me, anyway) providing the voice of the Black Rabbit in Watership Down (1978). Despite the title, there is not one single solitary drop of the red stuff shed upon the screen here, though the results are excellent and highly watchable, just the same. One of the best of its kind. On the scale, House earns three wops, and comes strongly recommended.

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Ingrid Pitt is gonna chew on my neck? Oh. Please. Stop. Don't.
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Tuesday, June 10, 2014

"To The Devil...A Daughter" (1976) d/ Peter Sykes

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I dunno about you guys, but I'm suddenly feeling the initial vibes of another theme to focus our critical lens upon here at the Wop, and demonology and witchcraft-themed flicks have always been favorites of mine (obviously), so unless there are any objections,  it's unanimous. Tonight's review, the last horror film out of iconic Hammer Studios for over thirty years, is a very good one, indeed. Permeating director Peter Sykes' frame with a sense of dread and real evil is the regal Christopher Lee, who treats the role of an excommunicated priest-turned-cult-leader with great relish and aplomb, as always, with the likes of Richard Widmark, Denholm Eliott, and a budding Nastassja Kinski along to help realize Christopher Wicking's strong screenplay, adapted from occult specialist Dennis (The Devil Rides Out, et al) Wheatley's novel.

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"As you can very well see, I derive a significant amount of pleasure from the worship of Astaroth."
After being excommunicated from the Church for heresy, Father Michael (Christopher Lee) spends the next decades scheming to bring about the physical rebirth of Astaroth using the body of the teenage daughter of a man named Henry Beddows (Denholm Elliott) as the animate vessel through a gruesome matricidal ritual. Beddows recants on his pact with 'ol Scratch by enlisting a popular occult novelist named Verney (Richard Widmark) to protect his child from the former priest and his demonic disciples. Verney deftly stashes Catherine (Nastassja Kinski), who's lived a sheltered existence thus far, as a nun in Germany, at his London flat, with his associates Anna (Honor Blackman) and David (Anthony Valentine) helping to conceal her until he can further research Beddows' predicament. Verney states that ninety-eight percent of so-called Satanists are just sexual deviates seeking out new kinky thrills, but the remaining two percent are very definitely cause for great concern.

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"Hold my inverted cross, boys, I'm goin' all the way like The Raspberries!"
Varney soon learns that it's the dreaded other two percent that he's foolishly gotten involved with, as Father Michael oversees the birth of a horrible, misshapen baby demon out of it's mother's abdomen during a wild Satanic orgy, while Catherine eagerly cops to being a willing disciple of Michael's, displaying a gold  pendant of Astaroth upon an inverted cross she was given as a present for her upcoming eighteenth birthday, the desired date for the arrival of the crown prince of Hell. As Varney grills a Bishop for historical background on Father Michael, and browses the very pages of The Grimoire of Astaroth that Father Michael had, twenty-six years earlier, Catherine, under the influence of the sinister ex-priest, shanks a watchful Anna in the neck with a steel comb and escapes to her awaiting sect. Will the author save the girl from the impending forces of darkness? Or will evil triumph in it's climactic battle against good for the ages? Score yourselves a copy and see how it all turns out...

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"What's the big idea, peltin' Robert Tessier with tomatoes?!!?"
Despite the silly, floppy, rubber devil-baby (say that six times fast, why don't ya), I'm of the belief that the less in tune critics that wrongfully panned this one back in 1976 were probably shocked by the film's somber tone and heavy erotic vibes, having been lulled by the familiarity of the studio's track record; relying heavily upon burlesque thrills and corny chills to a fault. What they had here was in fact, a legitimate horror movie, an effective companion piece to Hammer's own earlier occultish effort, The Devil Rides Out (1968). Though star Richard Widmark called it the one mistake of his acting career, and even Christopher Lee (who does not provide his own ass in the production, for the record) found at least one sequence to be quite obscene, I found it well worthy of three Wops on the rating scale, and recommend that you hunt down a copy and see for yourselves what I mean.

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...and to the Devil's daughter...I dunno, maybe a bikini wax?
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