Tag Archives: peter cushing

[August 14, 1968] The World, the Flesh and Charles Gray (the horror movies Torture Garden and The Devil Rides Out)


by Fiona Moore

Courtesy of my friends at Royal Holloway’s student and staff film club, I’ve been able to see two horror films recently released in the UK, which will soon have their stateside debut. One is a little patchy but still provides entertainment for the horror fan; the other is already being rightly hailed as a classic of British horror cinema.

Torture Garden

Torture Garden is an anthology movie, a subgenre I quite like as it allows the chance to show shorter, more compact narratives along a particular theme. This one, also, is written by Robert Bloch, a master of short, wickedly pointed, stories.

Burgess Meredith as Doctor Diabolo. Can you guess who he really is?
Burgess Meredith as Doctor Diabolo. Can you guess who he really is?

Through the framing device of a carnival horror-show hosted by Doctor Diabolo (Burgess Meredith), who offers customers a glimpse of their possible sinister fates, this film brings us four narratives linked by a common theme of people being driven by desire or ambition to commit horrible deeds. In the first, a man (Michael Bryant), desperately in debt, murders his uncle (Maurice Denham) to get his hands on his inheritance, only to find out that his uncle’s source of income is more supernatural and sinister than he believed. In the second, an ambitious film starlet (Beverly Adams) learns that Hollywood is, in fact, run by literal immortals, and is given the chance to join them. In the third, a celebrity pianist (John Standing) becomes the object of a rivalry between his fiancée (Barbara Ewing) and a possessed piano. In the final story, a Poe collector (Jack Palance) finds that a rival enthusiast (Peter Cushing) has managed to capture the ultimate piece of Poe memorabilia—the undead writer himself.

As the above should indicate, the film has an excellent cast, and is produced by Milton Subotsky, whom readers of this journal should remember from the two Doctor Who movies. Amicus, the production company, has form on producing anthology movies, having put out Doctor Terror’s House of Horrors three years ago. The strongest segments are the first and last, with the first story featuring a credibly demonic cat, and the final one providing a wry metaphor for the way in which collectors—and fans—enter into exploitative relationships with writers.

Peter Cushing is of course one of the best things in the movie.
Peter Cushing is of course one of the best things in the movie.

The film unfortunately lacks the cohesion of the best anthology movies. While, as I noted, there’s a linking theme between the episodes, it doesn’t particularly connect to the framing story, and, while it shares the concept with Doctor Terror’s House of Horrors of people being shown how to avoid a disastrous fate, the “twist” at the end is nowhere near as clever as the one in the earlier movie. The Hollywood segment is poorly characterised, full of excuses to show women in their underwear, and has an antisemitic subtext that made me rather uncomfortable (I suspect that Bloch, himself of Jewish ancestry, was trying to satirise the idea of a Jewish cabal running Hollywood, but it doesn’t quite manage to convey the right tone). While I quite like the concept of a sentient piano becoming attached to its owner, it’s difficult to find its attacks on its human rival anything other than ridiculous. Two and a half out of five stars.

The Devil Rides Out

Based on a novel by Dennis Wheatley, produced by current kings of the UK horror scene Hammer Films, and starring Christopher Lee, The Devil Rides Out is a much more polished and focused production.

Lee plays Nicholas, Duc de Richelieu, who, together with his friend Rex van Ryn (Leon Greene) has come to the UK to visit his late friend’s son Simon (Patrick Mower), in whom he takes an avuncular interest, only to learn that Simon has fallen in with a Satanic cult. The story follows de Richelieu and van Ryn’s efforts to rescue Simon and a young female cultist named Tanith (Nike Arrighi) from the clutches of Satanic priest Morcata (Charles Gray). Adapted by Richard Matheson, the plot is a fairly straightforward one of (supernatural) good versus (supernatural) evil, without any of the twists and ironies of many recent horror movies, and, much as I enjoy those, I also found the narrative here refreshing and satisfying.

Christopher Lee is horrified at a Satanic orgy
Christopher Lee is horrified at a Satanic orgy

Simon is played by a newcomer on the scene, Patrick Mower, who is certainly one to watch; although handsome and strong-jawed, he has a sinister quality which makes the idea of him falling in with Satanists believable. It’s good to see Christopher Lee playing a hero for once, escaping his usual typecasting as a monster, even if the chemistry between him and Charles Gray isn’t quite as compelling as that between him and Peter Cushing. There is a very well-done giant spider effect at one point, and fans of vintage cars will be delighted by all the 1920s and 1930s roadsters on display. There are elements of the new folk-horror genre in the scenes of English cultists cavorting in the woods of Hampshire.

Less positively, the film draws some associations between non-White people and Satanism that left me rather uncomfortable: the heroes are all English (and upper-class), but the cult boasts African and Indian members, and, when a demon is summoned at one point, it takes the form of a grinning, pop-eyed and semi-clad Black man. The spider aside, some of the effects are rather unconvincing, and the cult has so many members that one wonders how it manages to keep itself secret. There’s a slight hint of the exploitation genre that seems unfortunately popular now, and the fact that the youth in question aren’t inherently evil but are being led astray by an older person (and need to be rescued by another older person) doesn’t do much to mitigate that.

Charles Gray as cult leader Mocata
Charles Gray as cult leader Mocata

Nonetheless, this is Hammer on good form, providing a strong narrative with a satisfying conclusion and a lot of credible shocks and tension. The combination of good source material with a competent screenplay and plenty of talent behind and in front of the camera is a sure winner. Four out of five stars.





[July 24, 1968] Peter Cushing and the Women (Frankenstein Created Woman and The Blood Beast Terror)


by Fiona Moore

The Cinderford Palace Cinema is currently holding a Peter Cushing retrospective, celebrating a career that has included roles as diverse as van Helsing, Sherlock Holmes, Winston Smith and an odious Oxford student out to get Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy (no, really). I’m taking the opportunity to review their double bill of Frankenstein Created Woman (Hammer, 1966) and his most recent movie, The Blood Beast Terror (Tigon, 1968).

Frankenstein Created Woman

Hammer Studios’ take on the Frankenstein franchise differs from the American one in that the focus is not on the monster, but on the man who created it. The monster doesn’t survive beyond the first movie, and the subsequent films, including this one, instead follow the career of Doctor Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) as he continues his experiments in reviving the dead while staying one step ahead of the law.

Victor Frankenstein leading his collaborator, Hertz, into corruption.
Victor Frankenstein leading his collaborator, Hertz, into corruption.

In Frankenstein Created Woman, Frankenstein, aided by local doctor Hertz (Thorley Walters) and Hertz’s assistant Hans (Robert Morris), develops a means of capturing the soul at point of death. When Anton (Peter Blythe), a rich bully, murders the town innkeeper and frames Hans for it, Frankenstein exploits the situation by using the executed Hans’ soul to test his new procedure. The innkeeper’s daughter, Christina (Susan Denberg), who is also Hans’ lover, commits suicide, and Frankenstein, naturally enough, decants Hans’ soul into her body. Christina then goes on a murder spree, killing Anton and his friends, before finally killing herself a second time.

The result is a surprisingly nuanced take on marginalisation and prejudice, particularly as regards women. Both Hans and Christina are shunned by the villagers and bullied by Anton’s clique: Hans because his father was executed for murder (a death Hans himself witnessed as a child) and Christina because she has a prominent scar on her face. However, they find comfort and love with each other. Christina is continually underestimated and belittled by everyone around her: when the murders start, even Frankenstein assumes that it is Hans’ soul working through her body, but the film itself is much more ambiguous, making it clear that Christina is at the very least a willing participant, and possibly the one wholly responsible. At the end of the film, when Frankenstein confronts her and tells her that she is not responsible for the murders, saying “let me tell you who you really are,” Christina responds “I know who I really am.” Without intending it, Frankenstein has empowered her, and, although Frankenstein may think he understands her, he, like everyone in the story, has underestimated and misjudged her.

To add insult to injury, Frankenstein fixes Christina's scar when he restores her. Meaning he could have done that at any time, but didn't.
To add insult to injury, Frankenstein fixes Christina's scar when he restores her. Meaning he could have done that at any time, but didn't.

The direction of the movie is also rather clever: the murders are implied rather than shown, and the director, Terence Fisher (known for other Cushing outings like The Curse of Frankenstein [1957] and Dracula [1958]), throws in little bits of foreshadowing like having the guillotine visible in the background just before Hans is framed for the innkeeper’s death. The villains are believably nasty, reminiscent of the violent young men in the novel A Clockwork Orange. Finally, Cushing gives a brilliant performance as Victor Frankenstein that highlights the character’s charismatic evil, unintentionally corrupting everyone with whom he associates.

Four out of five stars.

The Blood Beast Terror

I was particularly interested to see this one as it is the sole film by Tigon British Film Porductions prior to their astounding folk-horror piece Witchfinder General. While it’s ambitious and interesting, The Blood Beast Terror is unfortunately nowhere near Witchfinder General’s league.

The movie’s plot is an attempt to meld no fewer than three horror subgenres: the vampire film, the were-beast film, and, of course, Frankenstein. Cushing plays Quennell, a detective investigating the strange deaths of a series of young men, seemingly mauled by a bird of prey. His investigation leads him to a lepidopterist, Carl Mallinger (Robert Flemyng) with a beautiful daughter, Clare (Wanda Ventham). After a few unconvincing red herrings, it becomes evident that Clare is not Mallinger’s daughter per se, but a monstrous hybrid of a human and a moth, who drinks human blood. She and her creator flee into the countryside, where Mallinger attempts to create a mate for her, but Quennell tracks them down.

This movie's got some notable supporting actors too, for instance Kevin Stoney as an evil manservant.
This movie's got some notable supporting actors too, for instance Kevin Stoney as an evil manservant.

The movie gets points for playing against traditional horror film clichés, though it then loses some for not doing so to a satisfying conclusion. For instance, the movie plays against type by giving us a female vampire who preys on men, and a female Frankenstein’s Monster-figure who desires a mate as much as her male counterpart does.  However, it doesn’t really follow through thematically, failing to explore the implications of reversing the gender roles, and, where the Monster’s pathetic need for a companion humanises him, Clare’s desire for a male of her species is dealt with perfunctorily and unsympathetically. The writer also seems uncomfortable with the lack of a female victim, but, rather than exploring the implications of men as victims—or perhaps considering more subtle ways in which Clare might be seen as a victim of society, as with Christina in Frankenstein Created Woman—instead shoehorns in a daughter for Quennell to provide some end-of-movie rescue action.

The movie has a few other problems. There is an unsubtle amateur drama sequence which draws the parallels between Clare and Frankenstein’s Monster, and which could have been half its length. There are some inconsistencies and inexplicable points, e.g. when a young naturalist turns up dead near Mallinger’s house, he denies ever having known the man, when a simple investigation would have showed that he visited him the previous night. The monster is eventually killed in a way that is so obvious I was surprised they chose that path.

Two and a half out of five stars.

There's also a cameo by music-hall comedian Roy Hudd, which goes about as you'd expect.
There's also a cameo by music-hall comedian Roy Hudd, which goes about as you'd expect.

The two movies are a good match in that they both explore women’s roles in horror and particularly females as independent entities, though Christina is a much more interesting and complicated figure than Clare, and is treated more sympathetically by the writers. Peter Cushing shows the subtlety of his acting ability, in that both Frankenstein and Quennell are severe, obsessive men on a mission, but one is a cold, cruel psychopath while the other genuinely cares for the people under his protection. Overall, I’d recommend Frankenstein Created Woman to people who like a good, thought-provoking psychological horror, but The Blood Beast Terror is mostly of interest to Cushing completists.






[July 6, 1965] Same Difference (Dr. Who And The Daleks)


By Jessica Holmes

Welcome to another round of my ramblings on Doctor Who, where this time I’ll be talking about something a bit different. I’ve had the opportunity to see the Doctor, Ian, Barbara and Susan in full colour on the big screen, but not quite as you know them.

I’ve just previewed the new film (so new, in fact, that it doesn’t come out in the UK theaters until August) Dr. Who And The Daleks, Milton Subotsky’s adaptation of Terry Nation’s serial, The Daleks. Directed by Gordon Flemyng and starring Peter Cushing, this adaptation manages to be too much like the original and not enough, both to its detriment. How? Well, let me explain.

For anyone who didn’t see the original The Daleks, or missed my review back then, here’s a basic rundown of the plot. If you’re familiar with the original, you can skip this next bit. Aside from the setup, it is almost exactly the same.

Image description: Film poster. Top text: NOW ON THE BIG SCREEN IN COLOUR! Bottom text: DR. WHO & THE DALEKS, TECHNICOLOR TECHNISCOPE, PETER CUSHING, ROY CASTLE, JENNIE LINDEN, ROBERTA TOVEY.

A Quick Recap

Eccentric-but-kindly inventor Dr. Who lives (Peter Cushing) with his two granddaughters, Susan (Roberta Tovey) and Barbara (Jennie Linden). When Barbara’s friend Ian (Roy Castle) comes by the house one day, Dr. Who shows him his new invention, a time-and-space machine called Tardis, which is bigger on the inside. Ian accidentally activates the machine, sending the group to an alien world. They land in a petrified forest destroyed long ago in an atomic war, and spot a city in the distance.

Image description: Wide shot of petrified forest in green lighting. The four main cast stand in centre frame, beside Tardis.

Outside Tardis, Susan gets a fright when a stranger tries to approach her. Shortly after, the group finds a box of medicine left by the door of Tardis. Although the younger members of the group are keen to return home, Dr. Who lies and says there is a problem with a component of his ship, the fluid link, and insists they must go to the city to look for the materials to repair it. Once in the city, the group discover that the surface of this world is awash with radiation, and the symptoms of radiation sickness are beginning to set in. To make matters worse, they get captured by the Daleks, a race of creatures who get around in armoured personal vehicles to protect themselves from the radiation.

Image description: 7 Daleks in the foreground, looking at Dr. Who, Susan and Ian in centre frame. There is a computer bank in the background.
That central part of the computer revolves. It's a rather wonderful set piece.

The Daleks seize TARDIS’ fluid link from Dr. Who, and overhear the group discussing that the drugs they found could be their only hope to survive the radiation sickness. Coveting the drug for themselves, the Daleks order Susan to retrieve the medicine from Tardis, promising that the humans will be allowed to administer the treatment. Upon her arrival at Tardis, Susan meets Alydon (Barrie Ingham), the leader of the Thals, another group of people who live on this world. Unlike the Daleks, the Thals appear human. They went to war with the Daleks a long time ago and both their civilisations were destroyed. The Thals have come to the Dalek city because their crops have failed and they want to trade their medicine for food. Alydon gives Susan an extra box of medicine, and she returns to the city, where the Daleks allow the humans to use the spare box.

Image description: A crowd of Thals look at Alydon, second from right in the front row, as he reads a letter.
Perhaps they should have called this 'Planet of the Bad Haircuts'.

The Daleks get Susan to write a letter to the Thals inviting them to trade, but when she completes the letter the Daleks announce their intentions to betray the Thals and destroy them.

The humans manage to disable a Dalek by cutting off its power supply, and escape to warn the Thals of the ambush. Most manage to flee in time, and the humans regroup with the Thals at their camp, where after some goading from Dr. Who and Ian, the pacifistic Thals agree to strike back at the Daleks. However, the attack fails, and Dr. Who and Susan are recaptured.

Image description: On the left Dr. Who and Susan stand together under a beam of light. On the right is a black Dalek.

Ian, Barbara and Alydon try a different way into the city, travelling through dangerous swampland and over a mountain to infiltrate the city from the rear, following the water pipes. Once inside, they regroup with the rest of the Thals, who launched an attack to rescue Dr. Who and Susan. The Daleks are about to detonate another atomic bomb to make the planet uninhabitable for the Thals, but the humans and Thals manage to stop them in time, with Ian tricking the Daleks into destroying their own machinery. Dr. Who recovers the fluid link, and with Tardis repaired and the Daleks defeated, the humans say their farewells and leave for Earth.

Image description: In the foreground, the four main cast members shake hands with a number of Thals. There are more Thals in the background.

What’s The Difference?

So far so identical. There’s been a bit of a change in the setup, with Susan becoming much younger, and Ian and Barbara are no longer her teachers. I suppose it makes sense, given that otherwise the film would have to devote time to explaining why an old man and a young girl are dragging a couple of teachers around time and space. In addition I would imagine there would be additional legal hoops to jump through in order to adapt that aspect of An Unearthly Child.

Image description: Dr. Who, Barbara, Susan and Ian inside TARDIS. There are many wires hanging down and a lot of scientific equipment.

It makes sense, yes, but do I like it? Not especially. In changing Ian and Barbara’s relationship to the Doctor and Susan, the dynamic of the group changes. There was a palpable divide between the teachers and the strange people with their blue box. It created an interesting internal tension because Ian and Barbara weren’t sure how much they could trust the Doctor, who at that point did not much care for them, either. This tension is absent here, with the gang being chummy from the outset. I think this could have been handled better as it’s far less interesting.

In the grand scheme of things though, it’s not that bad. It’s weaker than the original, but the dynamic still works in the context of its own film. What is bad, however, is what’s been done to the characters. I could have named this section ‘Who are you, and what have you done with Ian Chesterton’. Oh, Ian. Poor, poor Ian. It’s not merely that he is different from his television counterpart. That, I could cope with, if his character wasn’t a paper-thin lacklustre hammily-acted dim-witted sad attempt at comic relief.

Image description: Close-up shot of Roy Castle as Ian Chesterton.
The single dignified shot of him in the whole film.

This is not Ian Chesterton. He has the same name but that is literally all he has in common with his television counterpart. Well, unless you count having his legs paralysed by the Daleks. This Ian is just an absolute buffoon, and he stays that way the whole film, apart from one singular moment at the end when he tricks the Daleks. Even if I were to pretend the original didn’t exist, and judge the film purely on its own merits (which I am trying to do, up to a certain point), he would still be a flat, static character.

Image description: Close-up shot of Jennie Linden as Barbara
I swear her hair gets a little bigger every time she goes off-camera.

So, what of Barbara? Well, Barbara’s just sort of…there. She exists. You could cut her out of the film and I don’t believe anything would change. So that’s two strikes, one for bad adaptation, and another for just a bad character in general.

Image description: Close-up shot of Roberta Tovey as Susan.

Which brings us to Susan. Or as she’s usually called in the film, Susie. Susie is an interesting case. When she was first introduced, I confess that I found her quite annoying, as she sounded like she’d swallowed a thesaurus every time she opened her mouth. However I did warm to her as the film went on, as she adapted to her situation and faced every challenge head-on. Despite being younger, she’s a good deal braver than her television counterpart, and that is a change I welcome.

And now for the biggie. Dr. Who. I’m going to be pedantic for a moment. Well, I’m always pedantic, but I’m going to be extra pedantic. I don’t like calling him Dr. Who. Yes, I know it’s the name of the television programme. Yes, I also know that that is the character’s name in the credits. But I think we can all agree that this man is not literally called Dr. Who. It just sounds wrong. Still, I admit there’s no actual concrete reason I can give to explain my disdain for this choice of nomenclature other than ‘I just don’t like it’.

Image description: Close-up shot of Peter Cushing as Dr. Who.

Dr. Who and the Doctor are two markedly different characters. Even now, at his considerably softened state, Hartnell’s Doctor would look prickly as a porcupine next to Cushing’s Doctor Who. If we compare the version of the Doctor who appeared in The Daleks, it's like night and day.

There’s nothing wrong with Cushing’s performance. In fact, he’s very charming and Dr. Who has a likeable and warm personality which will no doubt be immediately endearing to viewers. In fact, I think that’s likely the reason for the change. The Doctor, in his earliest appearances, was not an easy character to like. Grumpy, often selfish, and just plain difficult all around, the original Doctor would not have translated well into his big-screen counterpart. At least, not without forcing through character development so fast it’d give you whiplash to keep the viewers on-side.

Image description: In the foreground, Dr. Who kneels with Alydon and examines some writing on a stone. In the background Barbara, Ian and Susan sit together. Tardis is visible in the distance.

Not faithful enough, or too faithful?

My answer? It's both. Though there are numerous character changes, as noted above, the plot of the film is identical to the plot of the serial. One the one hand, I do appreciate when a film is faithful to the story of its source material. However, this becomes a problem when the entire plot is lifted beat-for-beat from a serial with a total runtime of about 175 minutes and crushing it down to fit an 81-minute film.

There’s no room for the plot to breathe. There’s no room for the thoughtful, meditative conversations on the philosophy of pacifism. The original serial took the time to examine the Thals’ dedication to pacifism, and the process to convince them of the need to challenge the Daleks was long and slow, as you would expect when trying to convince a whole society to cast aside their deepest and most dearly-held belief. Here, the Thals get over the whole pacifism thing in the course of a single scene. It completely flattens them and takes the thoughtfulness out of the conflict, a thoughtfulness which was one of my favourite parts of the original.

In addition, having less time to convey information, this film is heavy on the exposition. Very, very heavy. Daleks have a bad habit of explaining their plans to each other for no reason, but this takes it to a new level. Barely a scene goes by without a character practically grabbing the camera and delivering a lecture on the history of this conflict. It is very tiresome.

Image description: Exterior of the Dalek city. Three Daleks emerge from three doors on a raised platform. Below them, there are bright lights, and four people shield their eyes from them below.

It’s Not All Bad, Though.

No, really. There’s something I can’t complain about and would dearly love to see on television: the production value. The sets for this film don’t require any generous suspension of disbelief to be believable – they just are. Well-designed lighting drenches the petrified forest in an eerie light, giving the area a sickly appearance that makes the Dalek city, by contrast, look warm and welcoming. However, the lighting in the city is stark and harsh, as are the Daleks. The sets are well-made and the colour choices are cohesive and visually pleasing, though I’m not certain that the Daleks would be terribly fond of the colour pink.

The Daleks themselves take full advantage of the upgrade to full-colour, with their shells appearing in a veritable rainbow of hues. Production photos and promotional materials reveal that the original Daleks are surprisingly colourful too, and it would genuinely delight me to see the programme in full colour, should the BBC begin broadcasting in colour within the programme’s lifetime.

Image description: Susan stands under a beam of light midshot, surrounded by 5 Daleks of varying colours. (From left to right: Blue, Red, Black, Blue, Blue.)

I also approve of the much fuller soundtrack of the film, as opposed to the quite sparse use of music in the serials. That said it does veer a little James Bond-ish at times, and I’d rather Dr. Who stayed well away from that sort of thing, thank you very much.

I admire how the serials manage to stretch their budget, but I would love it if the BBC would give the production team more to work with, so that we might bring visual treats like this into our living rooms a bit more often.

It’s not very likely, but a girl can dream.

That said, what on Earth (or Skaro) did they do to the TARDIS?! The interior looks like more of a junkyard than the one from An Unearthly Child. They even did away with the round things on the walls!

Image description: In the foreground there is a lot of scientific equipment and wires dangling from the ceiling. Ian looks into the room through the door of Tardis in the background.
They even got rid of the central console!

Final Thoughts

So, I’ve spent quite a bit of time comparing this film to the serial on which it is based. I had originally told myself, when I set out to write this, that I wouldn’t do that, that I would judge it purely on its own merits. However, having seen how identical it is to the original in many aspects, how could I not put the changes under a magnifying glass?

Adaptation is an inherently transformative process. On that I think we can all agree. The act of transplanting a story from one medium into another is always going to result in changes from the source material. Changes, in and of themselves, are not a bad thing. Take Sherlock Holmes. That’s been adapted to hell and back a thousand times since it was written and will be written to hell and back a thousand times more. Even take the legend of King Arthur. That’s been adapted so many times nobody knows what the original is. The aim with adaptation is not to avoid changes entirely. Changes can be good. They can add complexity to a character, depth to a plot. However, when changes flatten a character, then we have a problem. And additionally a reluctance to change can, as I described earlier, be to the detriment of an adaptation. It’s a delicate matter so perhaps you will forgive me my nitpicking. On the whole, do I think the changes made were justified? No. Dr. Who And The Daleks is a weak, rushed, flat story with flat characters and an abrupt and unsatisfying conclusion.

It might have higher production values and shinier sets, but there is something hollow at the heart of Dr. Who And The Daleks. Something was lost on the way to the big screen, and that’s enough for me to recommend that you steer clear of this film when it premieres. A far better use of your time would be to pick up David Whitaker’s novelisation of The Daleks, which comes out in paperback in October (though there is a hardback version already available, if you can get your hands on it).

As for me, I think I’m getting quite sick of Daleks, and I'm eager to turn my attention back to the Doctor Who we know and love.

1.5 out of 5 stars