It’s a long scary day ’round my place, as I celebrate the final Scare of the Day for October by working my way through MGM’s awesome new box dedicated to that legendary scare-master, Vincent Price. I’ve actually been tackling one or two of these films as I’ve had the time, but I wanted to make sure they were all knocked out by the end of the day, so rather than wait ’til the wee hours to get this thing posted, I’m just going to update it as I go. I’ll make the acknowledgment right off the bat, however, that this is no way intended to be a comprehensive collection of all things Price; in fact, without even trying, I can think of half a dozen other horror films on his resume which are part of MGM’s Midnite Movies catalog. Does that mean we’ll get a “Volume 2” come next Halloween…? We can only hope.
Tales of Terror – Price found himself in the midst of Edgar Allan Poe adaptations plenty of times within his career, but few are more enjoyable than this trio of tales, directed and produced by the inestimable Roger Corman.
Though he’s teamed with Peter Lorre and Basil Rathbone in the second and third segments, respectively, it’s in the first – “Morella” – where Price is truly the star. He plays Locke, a man who has spent decades mourning the death of his wife, who died in childbirth. When Lenora, the child in question, returns home after an absence of many years, she’s shocked to find the family mansion in disarray and her father but a shadow of the man he once was; of course, she’s even more shocked when she finds that Daddy’s been keeping the decomposing corpse of Mommy lying around for all this time. Somehow, father and daughter manage to reconcile, but in the end, it’s Moms who gets the last laugh.
The best of the three segments is unquestionably “The Black Cat,” which finds Lorre taking the lead role as Montresor Herringbone, a drunken lout who proves that just because you’re a drunk and a lout doesn’t mean you can’t be a clever – and deadly – son of a bitch. The entire story is played far more for laughs than horror, but the final shot is gleefully gruesome. Lorre goes all out with his drunk routine, though he probably had little choice in the matter if he wanted to match Price’s vigorously slimy performance as Fortunato, a pretentious wine connoisseur who ends up sleeping with Herringbone’s wife, the gorgeous Annabel (played by the gorgeous Joyce Jameson); the scene where Herringbone and Fortunato have a wine taste-off is, in and of itself, worth owning the film…if not this entire box set.
Though “The Black Cat” inspires quite a few chuckles, “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar” leads one to believe that Corman prefers to leave his viewers screaming rather than laughing. Here, Price plays the title character, a dying man who decides to provide a mesmerist by the name of Carmichael (Rathbone) with the opportunity of a lifetime: to hypnotize him at the moment of his death, to see if his passing can be prolonged via hypnotic suggestion. The experiment proves only half-successful; Valdemar remains in a half-dead / half-alive state, where his body is gone but his mind lives on, trapped within the lifeless vessel. Valdemar’s wife, Helen (Deborah Paget), and his longtime friend, Dr. Elliot James, demand that Carmichael release his subject, but Carmichael refuses, calling it the opportunity of a lifetime, providing him with the chance to find out what lies beyond this plane of existence. (You will not be shocked to discover that Carmichael soon gets the chance to learn about it first hand.) Rathbone is good and evil in his role, and Price’s ghostly voiceover is suitably spooky, making for a nice and creepy finale to three consistently enjoyable scares.
Twice Told Tales – From Poe, we move onward to Hawthorne. Funny, I never even realized that Nathaniel Hawthorne had written any horror tales…but, then, a horrible experience with “The Scarlet Letter” in 7th grade Honors English put me off his work for the long haul. Now, of course, I’ll have to go back and see what I’ve been missing…especially since no less an authority than Poe himself wrote this of Hawthorne’s short-story collection, “Twice Told Tales,” two of which are adapted in this film:
“The style is purity itself. Force abounds. High imagination gleams from every page. Mr. Hawthorne is a man of the truest genius. We only regret that the limits of our Magazine will not permit us to pay him that full tribute of commendation, which, under other circumstances, we should be so eager to pay.”
Dang! That’s sweet!
The two tales selected for the film by screenwriter Robert E. Kent were “Heidegger’s Experiment” and “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” but…say, aren’t there actually three tales in this film? Yep. For the third tale, Kent offers up a decidedly shortened interpretation of “The House of the Seven Gables,” but although this take isn’t by any means bad, if you should enjoy it you, your next move should be to check out the full-length version from 1940, which also stars Price (though he plays a different Pyncheon brother in each).
“Heidegger’s Experiment” stars Price and Sebastian Cabot as old friends Alex Medbourne and Carl Heidigger, who begin their segment by drinking a toast to days gone by…and, more specifically, to Heidigger’s late fiancée, Sylvia, who died on the eve of their wedding. Though it’s been 38 years since that fateful night, Heidigger and Medbourne are shocked when they discover that Sylvia’s body hasn’t aged a day; when Heidigger theorized that the lack of change is due to a liquid which drips from the ceiling of the coffin, he and Medbourne decide to drink the liquid themselves. Lo and behold, they find themselves instantly de-aged to the age that they were upon Sylvia’s death…and upon pouring the liquid into Sylvia’s mouth, she miraculously returns to life! If you think the story ends happily ever after, though, you’re living in a dream world. It was nice to see Cabot in something besides “Family Affair” for a change, and he and Price have a nice rapport; too bad Mari Blanchard, the actress who plays Sylvia, isn’t on par with them. After reading about the original story, I was surprised to find that the plot is actually markedly different from the film version…like, to the point where Sylvia isn’t even in it (it’s still about a Fountain of Youth in a bottle, but it’s more a tale about how eternal youth isn’t all it’s cracked up to be). I expect Sebastian Cabot was even more surprised, since, in the original story, his character makes it out alive!
In “Rappacini’s Daughter,” Price plays Rappacini, a botanist who, upon the death of his wife, decides that he isn’t going to take any chances and – to be sure he doesn’t lose his daughter, too – proceeds to gradually poison his daughter, Beatrice (Joyce Taylor), in such a manner that she can’t readily function outside of their home and garden. Does that sound enigmatic? Allow me to clarify: due to her father’s special chemical additives, anything she touches is immediately struck dead. Yikes, right? Talk about putting a damper on your love life…and, in this case, it extends to the love life of Giovanni Guasconti (Brett Halsey) as well. At first, it looks like a romance more hopeless than the one between Romeo and Juliet, but Rappacini decides to throw Giovanni a left-handed favor by gifting him with the same curse as his beloved Beatrice; instead of accepting the gesture, however, Giovanni visits a scientist friend of his in the hopes of obtaining a cure for both himself and Beatrice. Again, this is a so-much-for-my-happy-ending zone, but it does at least have the benefit of being the most true to the Hawthorne story that inspired it.
Witchfinder General – Based on the various articles I’ve read about it recently, this is almost certainly the most controversial flick within this box set, which was kinda surprising to me, as I’d never even heard of it until it popped up here. As I began to watch it, however, it quickly became apparent as to why it caused such an uproar when it was originally released back in 1968.
Price plays Matthew Hopkins, a 17th century English lawyer who claimed to have been appointed as a “Witchfinder General” by Parliament during the English Civil War to root out sorcery and witchcraft. Now, I know what you’re thinking about: that scene in “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.” (“If she weighs the same as a duck, she’s made of wood…”) Well, let me assure you that your Python-loving arse won’t be laughing by the end of this flick. Director Michael Reeves – who died not long after the film was completed, aged only 25 – created a dark, almost Gothic look at an era when the Catholic Church wasn’t kidding around one God-damned bit when it came to folks who were even vaguely rumored to be witches. The film opens with a way-too-realistic hanging, features several surprising graphic scenes of torture (Hopkins’ minions would prick the accused with knives and special needles, looking for the Devil’s mark that was supposed to be dead to all feeling and would not bleed), a rather excruciating scene where one of Hopkins’ former minions has to pull a knife from his arm, and, yes, drownings and burnings at the stake, too. (The latter features a particularly disturbing post-script, with children playing in the ashes.) It’s widely reported that Price and Reeves were practically at each other’s throats throughout the course of filming, with Price himself more than willing to acknowledge their disagreements in later interviews, but he also gladly conceded that his performance as Matthew Hopkins was one of the strongest of his career. It’s hard to argue with his assessment; Hopkins is a villainous individual, and even those who might claim that he was only following his religious beliefs will find their sympathy dissipating at his skeevy attempts to sleep with the young, attractive accused witches before still condemning them to death. As such, few will shed a tear at the end, when…ah, but why spoil the fun?
The Abominable Dr. Phibes – “Love means never having to say you’re ugly,” reads the movie poster for this flick, and it’s one of the most enjoyable, eccentric, and darkly hilarious horror films you’re likely to find. Price is Dr. Anton Phibes, and you’d be abominable, too, if your beloved wife had died…although, to be fair, you might not set forth on a vendetta to kill the nine doctors and one nurse who, even over the course of five different operations, were unable to save the good Mrs. Phibes. And, honestly, even if you did, you probably wouldn’t be quite so overly intellectual about it and, say, adapt the 10 Plagues of Egypt to modern times for your methods of murder. But, y’know, that’s what makes Dr. Phibes the man he is.
Joseph Cotten and Terry-Thomas are generally considered to be the other “big names” in the cast, but the often-unheralded star of this show…besides Price, of course…is Peter Jeffrey, who plays Inspector Trout, the policeman who’s struggling against departmental incompetence to find and stop Dr. Phibes. Jeffrey’s the heart of the film, the everyman who’s figuring out the clues, following the trail, and yet always ends up running just a little too far behind through no fault of his own; he bounces from solemn to comedic as the material requires it, and the movie wouldn’t work nearly as well without his presence.
P.S. The art deco look of Phibes’ sanctuary is positively fab. I wish *I* had his interior decorator.
Dr. Phibes Rises Again – The end of “The Abominable Dr. Phibes” was perfection, with absolutely no need for a sequel…but, of course, no Hollywood studio ever gives a shit about need when there’s a potential for money to be made, and – voila! – “Dr. Phibes Rises Again.” Funny thing is, this actually turned out to be almost as good a film as the original. Things pick up after Phibes has had a three-year rest in his basement, but he wakes to find that he’s slept a bit too hard and that his entire house has been demolished; worse, a set of papyrus scrolls has been stolen…and while you wouldn’t think that a few rolls of old paper would be such a big deal, consider that they would have led Phibes to the Pharoah’s Tomb in Egypt, where the River of Life flows. Oh, and did I mention that Phibes had planned to use the River’s waters to bring his beloved but dead wife Victoria back to life? Yeah, I guess that’d add to their importance a bit. So Phibes and his trust assistant, Vulnavia, are off to Egypt, but in addition to the ever-diligent Inspectors Trout and Waverly on their trail, they’re also forced to reckon with a gentleman named Biederbeck (Robert Quarry), who’s also after the waters of the River of Life. (Biederbeck, FYI, is several hundred years old, and he needs to hook his lady friend up with some of the waters, so she can continue to hang out with him for the long haul.) Phibes still manages to knock off quite a few people while he’s on his vacation; appropriately, he tries his best to do everyone in with an Egyptian theme, such as stinging them to death with scorpions, sandblasting them to death, and so on. A splendidly morbid time is had by all. There were several further sequel ideas floating around Hollywood after this flick, with at least one of them receiving Price’s blessing, but, alas, a third “Dr. Phibes” adventure was not to be. Shame, that. I was skeptical about this one at first, but by the end, I was more than ready for another.
Theater of Blood – This is the sort of film that we just don’t see enough of these days: an all-star cast of highbrow actors – Price, Diana Rigg, Robert Morley, and Milo O’Shea among them – having a laugh by taking an intentionally over-the-top script and treating it like it’s the work of Shakespeare. In this case, however, a certain amount of the dialogue was written by The Bard, but it’s Price who gets all those lines, playing a stage actor who takes revenge on the members of a circle of critics who dared to offer poor reviews of his Shakespearean performances. (My favorite: “Mr. Lionheart’s rendering of the role can only be described as villainous; placed between the delicately underplayed performances of Tamora and Lavinia, one is irresistibly reminded of a ham sandwich.”)
Having cheated death after jumping from the balcony of a tall building into a river below, Edward Lionheart (Price) keeps his continued existence a secret while visiting the various critics and slaying them in methods mentioned within various Shakespeare plays, quoting from them all the while. Some of the murders are on par with the schemes used by Shaggy and Scooby-Doo when they’re trying to escape from some monster or other; at one point, Lionheart disguises himself a funky hairdresser, which provides a sight that allows me to string together five words for this review which I never thought I’d see placed side by side: Vincent Price in an Afro wig. In truth, there’s a considerable resemblance to the “Dr. Phibes” flicks at times, but the Shakespearean angle is inspired, resulting in considerable creativity in the methods of murder. There are also some brilliantly groan-worthy lines, such as when Lionheart removes a “pound of flesh” from a critic by cutting him open and carving out his heart, then places it in a box and sends it to the other critics, along with a note – ostensibly from the victim – which reads, “I am sorry to miss the meeting, but my heart is with you.” Additionally, you have to love the great closing line from the lone surviving critic: “It was a fascinating performance, but, of course, he was madly overacting as usual…but you must admit, he did know how to make an exit.” (That’s right, baby: the critic gets the last word!)
It’s no wonder that Price often declared this to be one of his all-time favorite films; it’s a treasure. (It’s also the only R-rated feature within his resume, for what it’s worth.) While watching “Theatre of Blood,” I found myself wondering if there are any Shakespeare instructors out there with enough of a sense of humor to include a showing of this film within their curriculum; for my part, I know that my own instructor, Dr. Ann Garbett at Averett College, never would have permitted it…but the irony is that, had she done so, I probably would’ve done a lot better in her class.
Madhouse – This flick, however, takes a different twist, giving Price the opportunity to play an aging film actor, albeit one decidedly more respected than Edward Lionheart. Here, he plays Paul Toombes (ho, ho), a thespian who’s made a career out of doing horror films; not only isn’t it a real stretch for Price, but director Jim Clark also has the cheek to use clips from Price’s other films for American International Pictures when reviewing Toombes’ career, which allows for cameos from Basil Rathbone (“Tales of Terror”) and Boris Karloff (“The Raven”). Toombes’s most famous role is that of the murderous Dr. Death, but after completing what he believes to be his fifth and final film in the franchise, his fiancée is beheaded, which sends him spiraling into a nervous breakdown. Years later, he’s convinced by a longtime friend, Herbert Flay (Peter Cushing), to revisit the role, but just as he’s prepared to do so, a series of murders begin to occur, each based on crimes committed by Dr. Death in his various films. Is Toombes responsible, or is it someone attempting to blackmail him? Aye, those are the questions to be answered, all right. Some claim that “Madhouse” is a waste of talent, but it struck me as an enjoyably creepy flick; it’s a bit slow at times, and the aforementioned gimmick of utilizing clips from Price’s earlier movies is overutilized, and, truth be told, Price really does ham it up at the end of this one…but even with these quibbles, it’s still fun to watch the events unfold. Although the tone is deadly serious for the most part, a hint of humor does arise in a scene which takes place a costume party, an event that provides Cushing with the opportunity to dress up as Count Dracula (a nice irony, given his longstanding role as Van Helsing for Hammer Studios); also funny…though not as obviously so, unless you’re a real vampire aficionado…is seeing Robert Quarry, who played Count Yorga in a pair of early ‘70s flicks, in similar attire. (To clarify that I’m not trying to be elitist with that “real vampire aficionado” comment, I’ve never seen the Count Yorga flicks myself; I only knew about the gag because I read about it online.)
Well, that’s all seven of the flicks, but this set also includes a bonus Disc of Horrors which includes three new documentaries: “Vincent Price: Renaissance Man,” “The Art of Fear,” and “Working with Vincent Price.” I’m settling in to watch them now, but let’s just presume they’re just an awesome serving of gravy on top of an already worthwhile purchase.
And…hey, look at the time! It’s the end of October, which means I’m officially no longer required by law to do a Scare of the Day every day. Of course, that doesn’t mean I won’t drag this heading out once in awhile when I get what looks to be a really crappy horror flick, but at least I can do that on my own terms…thank GOD!
