Blu-ray Review: Theatre of Blood (1973) Vincent Price, Diana Rigg

A genuine classic from the early '70s, this wonderful piece of Grand Guignol is both a tour de force of acting from Vincent Price, but a great ensemble piece, with many instantly recognisable stars from the period.

Edward Lionheart (Price) is an famous stage actor, so disgusted that the critic's choice award was given to someone else when he thought he Shakespeare season would have clinched it, that he throws himself into the Thames, with the scoffing hacks watching. He's saved by a group of tramps, however, and plots a diabolical vengeance on those who he ridiculed his work.
Using the many deaths in the plays he performed as inspiration he offs them one by one.

 

While the film is very well known, and has played on TV numerous times - indeed, I'd wager most of the people who buy it would have seen it on a late night screening when they were in their teens, it's a very welcome release. Not only is it incredibly enjoyable as a horror film: the deaths are particularly gory and rather brutal - especially the first couple, but it has a great streak of black humour, which makes repeat viewings a delight.

 

Among the stellar cast, there's some 'old' greats such as Michael Hordern, whose death occurs within the first few minutes and is especially nasty. The great, but fading, Dennis Price (who by this time had been in several low budget horror films, the best of which was Horror Hospital) also suffers a really gruesome fate; as well as being speared, he is dragged by a horse in front of the mourners at Hordern's funeral (cemetery geek point: this was filmed at the glorious Kensal Green Cemetery). Lovable Arthur Lowe is decapitated in his bed while his wife (Joan Hickson) complains of his snoring (it's actually the saw going through bone). Harry Andrews donates a pound of flesh while Coral Browne (with whom Price started an affair and later married) is electrocuted while having her hair done by a wonderfully camp Butch (Price, in bubble-perm wig and hippy clothes). Boozy Robert Coote (My Fair Lady) is drowned in a vat of wine, and Jack Hawkins (voiced by Charles Gray since cancer had taken his voice box) is locked up for life for being tricked into killing his wife (Diana Dors). The most audacious and hilarious in it's own sick way is Robert Morley, being fed his 'babies' (his poodles) baked in a pie. Ian Hendry (Repulsion) is the critic helping the police, but he too has a run-in with Lionheart. You don't have to be an expert on the Bard to get the references in the murders, as they are all signposted and mentioned.

Diana Rigg pops up as Lionheart's daughter - and only the less observant will fail to spot her elsewhere, and the police investigating are played by Milo O'Shea (Barbarella) and Eric Sykes, although not necessarily a stooge roll, he stills manages a few gags thanks to his genius at physical comedy. It's Price's film, though and despite the fact he's meant to be overacting and hamming it up, his renditions of Shakespeare lines are truly spectacular. You can see he is obviously relishing the part; particularly as critics often wrote him off as a hack too. There's a great morality at play, these writers, who make it their business to criticise a performance - often ruining careers with their words purely because they wield the power - don't often think of the consequences of the bad notices they give. Of course, if something is terrible it needs to be said, but one should never resort to personal attacks or name-calling, something they do when they don't like a particular actor (naming no names, but I'm sure there's a few people you could think of). The pen might be mightier than the sword in theory, but not when it's going through your stomach.

 

The film is released on Blu-ray from the wonderful Arrow Video, and once again they do a fantastic job. Not only is the film presented in stunning quality (the screenshots presented here are from an earlier DVD release - I don't have the facility to grab HD shots), it's worth pointing out that it is fully uncut too (some earlier releases are missing some shots of Arthur Lowe's head on a milk bottle).  There's also the wealth of  supplementary features we have come to expect from the arguably the best cult film distributor in the UK, if not the world. *side note: let's hope it stays this way, and the planned changes to the BBFC submissions system forcing extras features to be classified - and as such paid for - don't go through the way they are threatened.* To start with, the beautiful booklet is packed full of info and rare stills, then on the disc itself, there's a cracking commentary from The League of Gentlemen (Reece Shearsmith, Mark Gatiss, Jeremy Dyson and Steve Pemberton), which is very entertaining, full of info and very much like ear-wigging on a group of mates in a pub, having a jolly good chat about films. Then, a series of short interviews with some key people about the film. The lovely Madeline Smith (one of only two - Dame Diana Rigg being the other - of the main cast members who are still alive) talks frankly about her time on the set, including some of the low points (such as the fact they were made to run through the burning building for real). American critic and fan David Del Valle talks of the horror star's career, while Vincent's daughter Victoria tells of her father's love for the film, and, in a surprisingly quirky and entertaining interview, composer Michael J. Lewis (The Man Who Haunted Himself) explains how he got involved. Kudos once more to Calum Waddell's High Rising Productions for putting together some great extras.

9 out of 10

Blu-ray Review: Corruption (1968) Peter Cushing

Unseen for many years, certainly in an uncut form, this is a welcome disc from Grindhouse Releasing. Peter Cushing, the softly spoken, gentleman of horror plays it nasty here as Sir John Rowan, a surgeon who is horrified when his younger girlfriend, Lynn (future Crossroads star Sue Lloyd), a former model, is facially burnt at a party. The fact that he is partly responsible due to fighting with an over zealous photographer (played by Confessions star Anthony Booth) no doubt spurs him on to commit some of his ghastly actions later. Using his medical skills, and access to the morgue, he acquires the pituitary gland of a recently deceased young lady, and concocts a serum, which he injects as well as using a high-tech laser, which works wonders at removing the burnt tissue, but burns through almost everything else! (this is several years before real-life laser surgery would become the norm) - an item which will play a large part in the action later.

 

The operation is a success - although only for a short time, and Sir John soon has to find new donours - as fresh as possible. These include a prostitute (in the films most graphic and infamous scene - more on that later) and a lovely looking young girl on a train (Carry On and Hammer starlet Valerie Van Ost). Severing their heads in order to obtain the glands and keep his love looking beautiful.

 

While away at their seaside holiday home in Seaford, East Sussex they come across a young girl who may fit the bill as a donor. Terry (Wendy Varnals) is seemingly alone, and accepts their invitation to stay. Unfortunately, she has a different agenda, as her husband Rik (Billy Murray, future star of The Bill, Dead Cert, Stalker and Strippers vs Werewolves) and his cohorts have their own plans. Which leads to a manic final act which pre-dates the surge of home invasion films seen in the 70s (such as A Clockwork Orange and The House on the Edge of the Park) and now prevalent in modern horror.

There's a few more faces to watch out for, not least Kate O'Mara looking stunning as Lynn's sister, Val, Vanessa Howard (Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny & Girly and This, That and the Other) in the opening swinging party scene as a wannabe model who takes a shine to Sir John and king of the bit-parts David Lodge, who is completely out of place as a simple minded thug in Cosmo Smallpiece (*look him up if you're too young to know or not from the UK*) glasses (watch closely to see the holes drilled in the thick glass so he could see) but was cast as he was a friend of the director, Robert Hartford-Davis. His other films include The Black Torment (1964), Incense for the Damned (aka Blood Suckers, 1970) and The Sandwich Man (1966), a glorious comedy starring the cream of British talent and headlined by Michael Bentine, from his own story. It was written by the brothers Donald and Derek Ford. Derek later wrote scripts on his own, mainly in the sexploitation field and directed several including the aforementioned This, That and the Other and Keep It Up, Jack.

 

Despite being a very 60s film, there's plenty to shock and surprise here. Many people are horrified by Cushing's involvement in such a sleazy epic - he himself tried to play it down saying it wasn't as graphic at script level - but he is perfect as the acclaimed surgeon whose love and guilt make him do hideous things. The violence is startlingly effective, and repulsive. It is deliberately shot to provoke the most visceral response. Cushing's close-ups often through a fish-eye lens to distort his appearance. Making him a grotesque, sweating monster. The prostitute murder was filmed several times for the different film markets. The more common version, seen in the UK and US features Jan Waters, in bath robe and undergarments and killed swiftly but nastily by Sir John's hidden scalpel (the reveal is brilliant) while a much more graphic version has Marian Collins strip down to her tights before a brutal and bloody struggle with the surgeon running his blooded hands over her naked breasts before beginning to remove her head. For the first time, we get the chance to see both versions of the scene (and other differences) as this brilliant release features them as an extra on the DVD in the package, and as an option to view within the "continental" version of the film on the outstanding Blu-ray. Apparently another version was also filmed for Japan which had the violence but no nudity, but this seems to be missing from the vaults so is only alluded to on the excellent commentary (from horror historian/writer Jonathan Rigby and Cushing biographer David Miller).

 

The HD version is a revelation visually. The colours are so vibrant and lurid they literally pop from the screen. It's not a film for everyone (although I wouldn't go as far as the original publicity department and proclaim it's "not a woman's picture") but if you have a penchant for some sick thrills it will certainly satisfy. In keeping with the film, the Grindhouse Releasing Blu-ray has a reversible version of its sleazy cover; one with the victim clothed, one with her breasts on display. Bravo!
8 out of 10

DVD review: Grave Tales (2011) - low budget indie with classic horror cast

If you are of a certain age, you will recall a fabulous magazine published by Dez Skinn in the '70s called  House of Hammer, (and in it's later days, Hammer's House of Horror and finally, Hammer's Halls of Horror). This magazine is where many of us got our first taste of proper horror films through their comic strip adaptations of Hammer classics. There was also a strip at the back of the magazine which was more akin to the Tales From The Crypt American comics. Now, the point of this impromptu nostalgia trip is the makers of indie anthology film Grave Tales obviously grew up with the same magazine collections.

The film itself opens with a young girl, Isabelle (Heather Darcy) researching graves in an impressively imposing cemetery (which looks like it may be Abney Park, Stoke Newington). She asks an elder gentleman (the fabulous and always watchable Brian Murphy, George & Mildred, The Devils, Panic at the Casino) if he can help, as he says he's been around the cemetery for years. Instead, he offers some interesting and macabre tales of the residents of the other graves.

The first tale, "One Man's Meat" tells of rotund drunken butcher Mr Elliot (Frank Scantori), who inadvertently kills a young woman. She makes the mistake of asking for change or food, and when he tries it on with her he accidentally suffocates her (with his hand, not his weight). Well, waste not, want not and his shop has some rather fresh meat on sale the next day. His customers suffer some rather strange reaction to his prime cuts, however.

Next up, is "Callistro's Mirror" in which grumpy Mr. Baxter (Damien Thomas, best known as Count Karnstein in Hammer's Twins of Evil) spots the titular mirror in an old junk shop, and immediately knowing it's value attempts to purchase it. However, the shop owner (another Hammer star, Edward de Souza) insists it's not for sale, and a scuffle ensues resulting in his death. The mirror has a strange quality, allowing Baxter to see an alternate world of hedonistic delights.

Edward de Souza and Damien Thomas

"The Hand" tells the tale of a pair of convicts on the run, chained at the wrist. One is injured and slowing the other (played by UK porn star Mark Sloan, Doctor Screw himself!) down, so he has only one option, to cut his cell mate loose, leaving his severed hand attached to the cuffs.

The final story, "Dead Kittens" takes place in the cut-throat world of the music industry where an all girl rock group's new member may be thrown in at the deep end when they film their latest, Satanic based video. This section is of special interest, for the appearance of real (and very obscure) band The Scary Bitches (you won't believe the song you hear them play) and, type-cast as the director, Norman J. Warren (British horror royalty, as he is the director of Satan's Slaves, Prey and Inseminoid).

Norman J Warren - take a bow!

The whole thing is topped off with a suitably predictable Amicus-style ending.

Now, even from the sketchy synopsis above, fans of the aforementioned House of Horror strips will recognise that the first three tales are all ripped off, sorry, heavily influenced by strips seen in the magazine. Right down to the pay offs. This is a shame as the majority of the film was written by John Hamilton, who has penned some rather fine books on the genre (including the recent X-Cert), and there's no credit given to the original source.

Damien Thomas and Don Fearney

The film is well made for the most part, first time director Don Fearney (who pops up as a tramp in the second story) does a good job of keeping the film flowing, and the editing by the more experienced Jim Groom (director of The Revenge of Billy The Kid and Room 36) is top notch, complimented by some very good special effects, far better than you'd expect from a low budget flick like this). Where the film falls down is in the sound. Some of the foley sounds like it was recorded in a shoe box. The Hand suffers from poor acting, much more than the rest of the film, and features the least likely police officer ever. His costume looks like it's ten sizes too big, and he should still be in school.

Don't worry son, you'll grow into it..

With all it's drawbacks, it's actually a fairly enjoyable film, not least for being able to see those old comics come to life, so to speak (I just hope there's not any law suits on the horizon). At only 75mins, and packing in four stories, it doesn't over stay it's welcome and it's worth checking out, but keep your expectations low. If nothing else, Brian Murphy is in it. And he's worth watching anytime.
Find out more at the film's website.
5 out of 10
The DVD can be purchased (exclusively as far as I can tell) from the wonderful people at Hemlock books.