Kronos, Stakes of Fate

Captain Kronos Vampire Hunter (1972)
Directed by Brian Clemens
Screenplay by Brian Clemens

Captain Kronos was ahead of its time.  Nowadays if you do a pilot for a television series about a vampire hunter and his assistant traveling around hunting different kinds of demons you'd be told that it's been done before.  (Or you'd be told that television is dead and that so is every other form of media.)   But what if he's really good with a sword, you know sort of like the Highlander, or Blade?
Yeah, and make everybody younger and less experienced with the killing of vampires and you have Buffy.  But Captain Kronos was never given the chance that Buffy, Highlander and Blade had.  Is it too late for a story about a veteran of the Napoleonic Wars traipsing through Europe (and, by the looks of that katana, beyond) and killing vampires with his brilliant hunchback sidekick/watcher?
I really hope not.  And if the period setting is a dealbreaker imagine the whole thing Sherlocked into a contemporary setting.  Kronos is still a veteran, the hunchback is still a hunchback and the vampires are still vampires.

Speaking of Sherlock, here's another reason to look at this film again.  Take a closer look at Wanda Ventham as Lady Durward.  That's Benedict Cumberbatch's mother.

There are so many things to enjoy about this film.  For instance, the fact that Kronos saves Carla from the stupid punishment of being placed in stocks for dancing on a Sunday.  It's a good reminder of the kind of illiberal history of European and Western culture and religion that in most contemporary discourse is completely shunted onto swarthier folk. 

The class issues are great too.  Have you ever noticed that the big bad vampire is never a working class mook with a taste for blood but instead is by definition a member of an aristocracy that exploits the labor and life force of others even without supernatural bloodsucking?  Yep, those Durwards are a bunch of useless vampires no matter what.  And like all aristocrats they manage to mesmerize even sensible folks like Dr. Marcus into being extra nice to them. 

I had forgotten the old buddy from the war factor in the relationship between Kronos and Marcus.  Kronos owes Marcus.  It also makes the relationship much more personal.  Killing off Marcus is a seriously Whedonesque move in a pre-Whedon era.  If Kronos had become a series you can imagine there would have been a lot of that.  Of course, if the premise of the show had been that Kronos and Grost are completely itinerant (Have Stakes, Will Travel) there would have been a Bonanza effect when it came to anybody they met along the way. 

Different kinds of vampires is a very nice touch, especially since the ending ties things to the Hammer Karnstein films based on Sheridan Le Fanu's Carmilla.  Daywalkers are harder to track.
The family dynamic of the Durwards is enduringly ambiguous.  What is going on with the brother and sister there?  They're either having a relationship with each other or trying to be each other.
And for that matter the mother and father don't make things any more easy to understand.

At least a closer examination reveals why there's so much awesome swordplay since Hagen is played by William Hobbs who is now renowned for his work as a sword fight choreographer.

The existential angst of the hunchback sidekick is a really nice touch.  And the fact that he is a necessary part of the team as the researcher and armorer makes him much more than a sidekick and closer to being a real Giles.

I suppose leaving Carla behind was as much a contractual safety bet as it was a matter of leaving Kronos unencumbered by a relationship.  (It's clear that Kronos is not ready for a real commitment anyway.)

All in all, Captain Kronos survives closer scrutiny.  I already want to watch it again.    

Cast
Captain Kronos, Vampire Hunter -- Horst Janson
Kronos (Voice) -- Julian Holloway
Grost -- John Cater
Dr. Marcus -- John Carson
Carla -- Caroline Munro
Lady Durward --  Wanda Ventham
Paul Durward -- Shane Briant
Sara Durward -- Lois Daine
Hagen -- William Hobbs
George Sorell --Brian Tully
Vanda Sorell -- Lisa Collings
Isabella Sorell -- Susanna East
Barton Sorell -- Stafford Gordon
Ann Sorell -- Elizabeth Dear
Kerro -- Ian Hendry
Pointer -- Robert James
Barlow -- Perry Soblosky
Giles -- Paul Greenwood
Barman --  John Hollis
Myra -- Joanna Ross
Priest -- Neil Seiler
Lilian -- Olga Anthony
Blind Girl -- Gigi Gurpinar
Big Man --Peter Davidson
Tom -- Terence Sewards
Deke -- Trevor Lawrence
Barmaid -- Jacqui Cook
Whore --Penny Price
Petra -- Caroline Villiers
Jane -- Linda Cunningham

Music by Laurie Johnson
Cinematography by Ian Wilson 

The Bureaucratic Machinery of Dracula

The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973)
(Platinum Disc Corporation edition)
Directed by Alan Gibson
Screenplay by Don Houghton

Alright, I'm still trying to find a better edition of this film which lapsed into the Public Domain in the U.S.  This version starts out with some awkward blacked out credits (thanks copyright Stalins!). 

This film takes the Satanic ritual parts of Dracula A.D. 1972 and (obviously) puts them center stage.  In previous Hammer Dracula films the devilish rituals were focused on bringing back Dracula and then the rest of the business was left to Dracula to do his vampire thing.  In this film Dracula is already back (though we're not fully sure of it until Van Helsing confirms it) and Dracula himself is appealing to a lower darker power in order to...take over/destroy the world.  That's right, we've finally gotten to the point where the stakes have been raised beyond the simpler (and frankly more dramatically convincing) human-sized stakes (pun intended) of the older Dracula stories.  We've skipped right past the intermediate stakes and we're already talking about apocalypse.  Make no mistake, it's reckoning that Dracula is looking for.  This Dracula has an undeath wish and is intent on destroying all of humanity with a biochemical plague.  And to add insult to injury he again decides to take Van Helsing's granddaughter Jessica with him as his vampire longtime companion.  

As Van Helsing points out, Count Dracula's apocalyptic plan involves killing off his own food source and thus slowly starving for eternity.   But Dracula doesn't seem to care about the logical conundrum of his plan.  He just wants to take a giant rancid vampire dump on the world.  This is more than his erstwhile cult leaders can actually bear. 

See, after dealing with hipster youth in the 1972 incarnation Dracula gets wise and uses cult bikers as mere bodyguards and instead enlists ambitious pillars of the establishment who look to create a crisis that will allow them to unleash a neo-fascist regime that will enrich them leave them with complete power.   (We've been afraid of this kind of conspiracy for a while, you see.)  But exactly what did these guys think they were doing?  At least Julian Keeley the Nobel prize winning scientist who helps create Dracula's super-plague recognizes what he's doing beyond mere venal terms.  He knows that he is in league with evil, and whether it is because he is entranced or just plain bonkers he expresses quite eloquently the fact that he has decided that evil is just stronger in the end.  Van Helsing tries to get him to fight against it but he is instead knocked out by a gunshot (that only grazes his head, thanks to fate/divine will of Providence/power of writer).  Keeley is found hanged. 

Here's the question:  was Keeley murdered by the Dracula Satan Cult, and if so did Dracula give the order?  Because it's easy to see that Keeley's deteriorating mental state, combined with Van Helsing's contact, turn Keeley into a liability and possibly a set of loose lips that needs to be silenced.  But on the other hand Dracula ends up deciding to use Van Helsing as his "fourth horseman" to spread the plague which means keeping his deadliest nemesis close by at the crucial eleventh hour before his plan can come to fruition.  (Don't even get me started about the ham-handed "ticking clock" of the "Sabbath of the Undead.")  Of course, I understand Dracula's desire to stick it to Van Helsing by keeping him alive to watch Dracula turning Jessica into his absolutely fabulous eternal trophy wife.  But didn't you try this plan in 1972, Mr. Dracula?  That was only a year ago.  Why do you think the same plan will work better?  Don't you at least have a little tingle of spidey-sense that will make you slightly wary of trying the same thing that got you pinned on a hedge of spikes last year? 

Meanwhile, what's really interesting is that while Dracula has been literally brought back in corporeal form he has also become quite incorporated as well.  Are his collaborators really aware that the reclusive D.D. Denham, whose corporate headquarters building is built on the former site of St. Bartholph's Church (which was in ruins in the previous Hammer Dracula film) is actually Count Dracula?  Or do they just think he's a curious billionaire who likes to dabble in satanism and who promises a quick path to eternal life (which he's proved to them through the amateur theatrics of stabbing a pretty blonde girl and bringing her back as a vampire)? 

As for the reclusive billionaire who turns out to be a vampire bent on destroying a humanity that he despises by manipulating power hungry, greedy and lecherous pillars of society--well, isn't that really what all corporations are really up to?  D.D. Denham has the good grace of at least being an actual vampire with a soft spot for monologuing with his nemesis. 

And for all the money that he has why does Dracula have one of the worst looking top floor offices I've ever seen?  I hope Dracula drained the blood of the architect that came up with that room.  And what kind of recluse has an office where the elevator from the lobby can open up directly in front of your desk?  Are you trying to be assassinated?

Speaking of assassinations, I have to hand it to Van Helsing for walking into the Devil's den with the world's daintiest Derringer.  At least we see him melting down the silver cross and making his own bullet.  But then maybe it's refreshing to see someone who doesn't need one of those Underworld vampire assault rifles. 

Another motif from this film is that if the powers that be are infiltrated or controlled by people up to no good then the only way to confront them is to engage in a rogue operation.  You can see the problem with this logic.  It's good and well if the problem is that the minister in charge of the Intelligence Services is working with a vampire and you need to go rogue to infiltrate the vampire house and kill some vampires.  But take out that supernatural element and the whole conflict becomes shady. 

Let's talk gender issues for a second here.  There are plenty of women in this film, but they are either victims or monsters.  And only one of the victims manages to escape being turned into a monster and that is Jessica.  The case of Jane from the secret intelligence agency office is instructive.  She is sent home to get some rest after some hard work and is kidnapped by the world's worst dressed bikers. 
The intelligence agency doesn't even realize she's missing when they go take a look at the country house they have had under surveillance.  She is held by the cult and fed upon and turned by Dracula.  (Surely somebody in the cult is quite aware of the vampirism.)  When they do finally stumble upon her she is chained to a wall.  The paternal Torrence tries to rescue her, unaware that Jane is now a vampire.  When she tries to attack Murray manages to drive a stake into her chest...her now conveniently bare chest.   Now, there's a really good reason why the 1930s Dracula films cut away from the image of driving stakes into people's chests.  And while most of that reasoning was based on violence, the other half of that is the combination of violence and nudity that in this film quite frankly sexualizes the violence.  I might think this is an overreaction to some merely titillating (wipe that smirk off your face, Smedley) exploitation.  But then there's the later scene with Murray and Chin Yang. 

There's no other way to describe the positioning of bodies in the struggle between the police inspector and the vampire mistress than the position of sexual copulation but with murderous intent on both sides.  It's not just the fact that Murray is on top of Chin Yang and she is lying underneath him--they are fully clothed, more or less--but it's the camera angle and the way the situation lingers and continues for much longer than mere melee would demand.  It frankly looks more like a rape and in a situation where the man in the "rapist" position is nominally the good guy and the woman in the "victim" position is an evil vampire it's an awkward situation that seems to legitimize any kind of "staking" that Murray is about to deliver.  And if it was a simple matter of pinning her down and staking her as soon as possible, the fact that she's a vampire would seem to suffice.  But I will say it again, the series of images that can be mistaken for sex lingers for an impossibly long time, and the part where she has a fishnet thrown over her...I'll leave that for some other discussion some other time.  Let's just say that this staking was as much too obvious in its metaphor as the one with Jane. 

As for the other former victims who are now monsters (all of them women)?  Remember the thing from Dracula A.D. 1972 where the vampires can be killed off by running water?  Well, what better way to destroy a basement full of vampire women (who are chained to their coffins, mind you) than to open up the spigot of the helpfully placed sprinkler system at the top of the stairs?  While at first this might seem to be a case of the writers giving a character a too simple solution for a really big problem, it actually makes sense when you think about the corporate structure of the Denham/Dracula conglomerate and what they're up to.  It's not about proliferating vampirism and unleashing hordes of ravenous monsters on the country.  Especially if that means unleashing independent female monsters.  Dracula here isn't in the business of liberating anybody's sexuality.  He's harnessed it, shackled it and turned it into a commodity and lest anybody think there's anything the least bit liberating about it he's put a kill switch in easy reach where he can order the whole operation shut down with a simple sprinkle of water.  In that regard, this film has hidden within it a pretty cynical analogue for the very kind of exploitation that I found problematic with the deaths of Jane and Chin Yang.  This film is part of the very cynical media co-opting of "liberated" female sexuality.  (Look, I'm free to rip open my blouse and get staked in the chest if I choose to do that.)  But the vampire girls chained to their coffins have no real agency.  They are part of the machine that uses their bodies and keeps their bodies available and which will dispense with them once they are no longer of use.  They aren't even free to do the thing that they have been "turned" into desiring on their own volition.  They will be "fed" when the company has decided to feed them.  Of course, this kind of critique bears all the problems that go with Being the Thing You're Criticizing. 

At any rate, that's something I noted about this film that was a bit troubling.

Of course Van Helsing pulls through in the end and with Murray's help saves Jessica (and the rest of the world.)  Once again it is the articles of faith that are required to put down the vampire, though here there is no requirement of faith itself, just the articles of faith as if there's a mutual recognition that neither the vampire nor the vampire killer believe in the rituals they are engaging in (does Dracula really think the Sabbath of the Undead holds some sort of special meaning?) but that the objects have acquired the requisite patina of precedent that makes them the mutually agreed upon Things That Will Kill a Vampire Because...even if the vampire killer and the vampire don't really care about what you believe in.  Still, a hawthorne bush...that's a nice trick.  Not sure why Dracula wouldn't have a serious scent-based radar for the presence of hawthorne (granted, it's not garlic or wolfsbane). 

So this is the last of Hammer Dracula films with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing.  Not exactly a bang, but I'm not sure I would have liked to see what Dracula 1974 would have looked like.  I suspect that it might have looked like Five Easy Pieces or maybe it would have looked like Moonraker, who knows?

If Dracula A.D. 1972 played out like a seventies cop show, then this film played out like a seventies spy thriller.  Something like Day of the Jackal or The Eiger Sanction but with vampires and pseudo-satanic rituals.  And maybe part of the problem is that the film could have used a more self-conscious mixing of genre that would make the whole thing slightly more coherent. 

Cast
D.D. Denham/Count Dracula -- Christopher Lee
Lorrimer Van Helsing -- Peter Cushing
Jessica Van Helsing --  Joanna Lumley
Inspector Murray -- Michael Coles
Torrence -- William Franklyn
Julian Keeley -- Freddie Jones 
Colonel Mathews -- Richard Vernon
Chin Yang -- Barbara Yu Ling
Lord Carradine -- Patrick Barr
John Porter -- Richard Mathews
General Sir Arthur Freeborne -- Lockwood West
Jane -- Valerie Van Ost
Hanson -- Maurice O'Connell
Doctor -- Peter Adair
Vampire Girls -- Maggie Fitzgerald, Pauline Peart, Finnuala O'Shannon, Mia Martin
Guard #1-- Marc Zuber
Guard #2 -- Paul Weston
Guard #3 -- Ian Dewar
Guard #4 -- Graham Rees
Commissionaire -- John Harvey

Music by John Cacavas
Cinematography by Brian Probyn

Disco Dracula's London Groove Thang

Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972)
Directed by Alan Gibson
Screenplay by Don Houghton

Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee back together again, 1972 style.  Yeah, I'm willing to pay my Hammer tax and watch this film based on that alone.  You know there'll be an obligatory Seventies party scene with some funky music.   And maybe Dracula will drive around in a Trans Am.  

Okay, so this film starts out in 1872 with Lawrence Van Helsing locked in a deathmatch with Count Dracula on top of a speeding carriage.  After the carriage crashes Dracula is caught on a spoke and unfortunately nobody has a "jaws of death" to unimpale him.  Van Helsing finishes the job and then dies of his own injuries.  And thus the shortest of the Hammer Dracula films draws to a conclusion. 
But wait, Dracula has an acolyte--a Dracolyte--who gathers up his remains and secretly buries them at St. Bartolph's Church where Van Helsing is also buried. 

And now the story skips ahead by a hundred years.  It's 1972 and the fashions are atrocious and nobody really cares because all the cool kids are high as kites that have been put into carry-on luggage and flown to Lisbon.  If you've been paying attention (and in 1972 some people may not have been) you'd notice that young Johnny Alucard looks a lot like that Dracolyte who buried Dracula back in 1872.  And we see that Lorrimer Van Helsing looks just like his ancestor Lawrence.  Weird how genetics works like that.  Lucky for her and us Jessica Van Helsing looks nothing like a female Peter Cushing.   And I'm pretty sure that even someone who's really high would eventually roll to the fact that Alucard is Dracula spelled backwards.  Nobody is really named Alucard.  There's only one reason anybody has ever had the name Alucard is because they're trying to be coy about Dracula.  If  you have a "friend" named Johnny Alucard, he's not your friend.  He's a vampire or a vampire wannabe.  

And then there's the obligatory party scene featuring the band Stoneground.  Heck of a party, isn't it?  Really gives you a feel for London in 1972, doesn't it?  Now imagine Margaret Thatcher at that party.  Now imagine her at that party dressed only in a garland of lilies.  Now imagine your dad showing up to that party in an orange sportcoat and yellow and brown plaid pants.  That's 1972 in London.  Vampires are the least of your problems.  

So, simple hippy parties aren't quite exciting enough and thus the young generation turns to black magic for fun.  And what better place for some Satanic fun in London than a wrecked old church (St. Bartolph's, naturally.) where you might be able to resurrect Count Dracula and give him a special rebirthday present of one of your "friends."  Another piece of advice: friends don't feed friends to their vampire overlords. 

The film seems to meander between feeling like it's Beyond the Valley of the Dolls and an episode of the British version of Kojak.  I think I just described what the original Kolchak: The Night Stalker was like.  Seriously, what kind of self respecting vampire would want to drink someone whose blood reeks of polyester, cocaine and patchouli?  

Here's another question: why did the Dracolytes wait a hundred years before trying to bring back Dracula?  Were they just too busy with the two world wars to bother unleashing the master of vampires?  Was 1972 all that great of a year?  Or is it just that the Dracolytes had to be so bored by everything else that they decide to resurrect Dracula the way some bored people decide to go out and buy some cole slaw just to get some fresh air?

In this incarnation Dracula has some serious score settling in mind with Van Helsing.  That's why it's really convenient for him that Van Helsing's granddaughter Jessica is hanging out with a hard partying crowd of vampire bait.  In 1972 Dracula has an elaborate plan of corrupting Jessica by turning her into his vampire companion.  (The ultimate insult of rendering the vampire killer's progeny tainted by vampirism.  Yes, it's an analogy for sexual purity.  What did you think it was?)
But in the grand tradition of Bond villains Dracula spends too much time dragging his eternally cold feet instead of proceeding with his evil plan. 

Van Helsing tracks down Johnny Alucard and kills him the way you would expect to kill a dirty hippy--with a cold shower.  Yeah, I said it.  Seventies hipster killed by bathing. 

Dracula's death by booby trap is a perfect Vietnam era death.  The only way it could have been more perfect would have been if Van Helsing had dipped the stakes in feces.  Not because it would be more lethal for Dracula, but because it would have been the right level of insult.  But that's not Van Helsing's style.  He does not lack elegance. 

As for Jessica, she is saved from the evil vampire who puts her under his spell and turns her into a mindless minion.  In short, she is saved from being a trophy wife married to a jerk who really only wants her in order to punish someone else and so that he can sully her with his touch. 

Jessica is also saved from a group of friends who are easily lured by their inquisitiveness/boredom into doing stupid evil things.  (Manson Family, anyone?)  And she also gets a clean break from her boyfriend who is drained of his blood.  How about that for a breakup story?  "Yeah, my last boyfriend was killed by a vampire...as were most of my other friends.  So, who's up for some tea and sandwiches?" 

There's something to be said for the choice of putting a vampire (and especially Dracula, THE vampire) in a contemporary setting.  But there's also something to be said for the Victorian Gothic setting.  It's apples and oranges in vampire films.  I can't help but feel that one of the flavors that makes the Dracula story is the period setting, but I also enjoy the idea of contemporizing the story.  Maybe I'd be less ambivalent if it hadn't been set in 1972.

I'll say this, at least there's no real sympathizing with the monster in this film.  Dracula is actively in league with evil and his minions not only ally themselves with Satan and Dracula but also commit wanton murder and use the bonds of friendship to lure people to their deaths.  This is a vampire you don't mind seeing destroyed in a pit of death for the undead.  

Cast
Count Dracula -- Christopher Lee
Lawrence Van Helsing/Lorrimer Van Helsing -- Peter Cushing
Jessica Van Helsing -- Stephanie Beacham
Johnny Alucard -- Christopher Neame
Gaynor Keating -- Marsha Hunt
Laura Bellows -- Caroline Munro
Anna Bryant -- Janet Key
Joe Mitcham -- William Ellis
Bob -- Philip Miller
Greg -- Michael Kitchen
Matron Party Hostess -- Lally Bowers
Charles -- Michael Daly
Crying Matron -- Jo Richardson
Hippy Girl -- Penny Brahms
Hippy Boy -- Brian John Smith
Go Go Dancer -- Flanagan (Maureen Flanagan)
Girl -- Glenda Allen
Boy -- Christopher Morris
Debby Girl -- Jane Anthony
Mrs. Donnelly -- Constance Luttrell 
Inspector Murray -- Michael Coles
Detective Sergeant -- David Andrews
Police Surgeon -- Artro Morris
Stoneground -- Stoneground (Tim Barnes, Sal Valentino, John Blakely, Brian Godula, Lynne Hughes, Deirdre La Porte, Cory Lerios, Lydia Mareno, Steve Price, Annie Sampson)

Music by Mike Vickers
Cinematography by Dick Bush

Hammered Stakes

Warner Brothers 4 Film Favorites: Draculas (2007)

This collection is a nice economical way of getting a dose of Hammer vampire action.   You miss out on the cover artwork (which should not be underestimated as part of the artistic package) but it is a nice sampler with a quadruple dose of Christopher Lee.

The collection includes these films: 
Horror of Dracula
Dracula Has Risen from the Grave
Taste the Blood of Dracula
Dracula A.D. 1972

All four films are presented in widescreen.  Theatrical trailers for Horror of Dracula and Dracula A.D. 1972 are included.  

My review of Dracula A.D. 1972 (longtime listener, first time caller) will follow shortly. 

Retaste The Blood Of Dracula

Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970)
Directed by Peter Sasdy
Screenplay by John Elder (Anthony Hinds)

Go on, try the powdered blood of Dracula.  Taste it.  Savor it.  Tastes like talc and licorice? 
Seeing this film again reminds me that some of it is really delightful and some of it is just tedious.
Taste the Blood of Dracula marks a shift in style in the Hammer vampire films and in Hammer films in general.    

This film is about the boredom of decadence.  The staid elders of the society Hargood, Paxton and Secker are secretly members of a thrill seeking club that is constantly escalating.  While some of them seem content to get together every so often and head over to the cathouse for some exotic dancing and hanky panky William Hargood is bored to tears by hookers, booze and a woman dancing with a python (or a boa).  The other two guys seriously seem to be okay with what they've got, but Hargood looks like he needs something more.  It doesn't help that the bad boy Lord Courtley shows up and steals his girl.  Courtley doesn't even have to pay.  All the girls want to give him freebies.  In a different film this would lead to Hargood sleeping with Courtley in order alleviate the boredom. 

While this film maintains a Victorian/Edwardian time period (still no motor cars or dirigibles) it finally moves us over to England where things can be quite decadent and richer than the Central European milieu of the earlier films.  Here the elders have failed the call of civilization.  They are decadent hypocrites, seething at the inequity of Courtley's aristocratic behaviour even as they employ similar attitudes toward those lower than them on the class/status/wealth totem pole.  If anything, the younger generation are more pure and idealistic even while living up to the general ideals of morality.  The young Hargoods, Paxtons and Seckers are not the ones running around snorting cocaine, swilling booze, watching dancing girls put pythons in their mouths, having sex with prostitutes or drinking bubbling vampire blood and kicking people to death.  It's the old folks who are doing this, which is a serious inversion of expectations.  The symbolism is completed when the young Paul restores the altar pieces in the chapel where Courtley held the "Black Mass" where the thrill seekers killed him and unwittingly resurrected Count Dracula.  Paul and Alice are left to reconstitute society with their restored moral universe which at that point has been cleansed of their immoral progenitors, albeit with some serious collateral damage.

Speaking of that collateral damage, one of the things that really gets short shrift even in slasher sequels is how the decimated survivors go on after all their friends have been eaten by vampires.
Certainly they'll have to make some new friends, but how does that conversation go?
"It's so nice to meet you.  I don't understand why you don't have any other friends."
"Oh, all of our friends were killed by a vampire last year."

The storytelling here is an interesting jumble.  It's the kind of thing that I suspect would make a screenwriting workshop go apoplectic and that alone is a reason to like this film a little more. 

Cast
Weller -- Roy Kinnear
Count Dracula -- Christopher Lee
William Hargood -- Geoffrey Keen
Martha Hargood -- Gwen Watford
Alice Hargood -- Linda Hayden
Samuel Paxton -- Peter Sallis
Paul Paxton -- Anthony Corlan (Anthony Higgins)
Lucy Paxton -- Isla Blair
Jonathan Secker -- John Carson
Jeremy Secker -- Martin Jarvis
Lord Courtley -- Ralph Bates
Inspector Cobb -- Michael Ripper
Betty, Hargood's maid -- Shirley Jaffe
Felix -- Russell Hunter
Dolly -- Maddy Smith (Madeline Smith)
Chinese Girl -- Lai Ling
Snake Girl -- Malaika Martin
Redheaded Prostitute -- June Palmer
Bordello Girls -- Amber Blare, Vicky Gillespie
Vicar -- Reginald Barratt

Music by James Bernard
Cinematography by Arthur Grant

Dracula Has Left the Toilet Seat Up

Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968)
Directed by Freddie Francis
Screenplay by John Elder (Anthony Hinds)

Dracula has risen from the grave and he is ready for a rumble.  I was excited to finally see this film since I'd already seen Taste the Blood of Dracula which starts off with Dracula's death scene from this film.  That seems to be the only thing these two films share other than Christopher Lee.  I'd like to believe that I can spot the difference between a Freddie Francis directed film and a Terence Fisher, but the differences are not so obvious in this case.  Maybe I need to see some more Freddie Francis films. 

Dracula Has Risen from the Grave is a film about faith, and also vampires, but mostly faith...and also class.  There is no Van Helsing here, instead the vampire hunting is left to conservative religious authorities as represented by the Monsignor.  Our young heroes are the Monsignor's niece Maria and her student boyfriend Paul.  Paul is modern through and through.  He's working his way through school as a baker's assistant in return for room and board.  His boss Max is a genial and kind man who is like a father and friend to Paul.  Max is a solidly working class man who might own his own house and bakery but who is clearly at home with the folks who come to his tavern for a drink or ten.  Paul might be a student working his way up but he is also clearly comfortable with modern ideas of egalitarianism.  Paul is a perfect example of a young revolutionary.  Remembering that this story is set in Central Europe (in this case in the strikingly modern year of 1905) it is quite easy to think of Paul as a Marxist in everything but name.  (Sort of.)  It's a telling thing for a film made in the momentous year of 1968.

At any rate, Paul is left in the uncomfortable position of meeting his girlfriend's family after being drenched with beer by his student friends.  So he meets Maria's mother and then her uncle the Monsignor while reeking of alcohol.  And then when pressed he admits he's an atheist.  And you know what that means in a vampire film...his beliefs will be tested by the appearance of a bloodsucking fiend and whatever issues Count Dracula has atheism isn't one of them.    The Monsignor is not happy at all.   And what does this have to do with Dracula?

Well, Dracula has been menacing the neighboring town (where his Castle looms on the heights above.)  The film opens with a young woman's body being found dripping blood and hanging in the church bell.  For some reason we are then fast-forwarded to a year later and supposedly Dracula is no longer around but his spirit has lingered and nobody is attending the cursed church and the Priest has turned to drink because he's lost his faith.  The Monsignor shows up and drags the priest along with him to post a giant gold cross to block the door to Dracula's castle thus barring its use as a vampire nest.  (Or something to that effect.)  The priest meanwhile refuses to go all the way to the crack of Mt. Doom because he's a coward.  While the Monsignor is doing his ritual blocking of the door a thunderstorm occurs which causes the priest to run away.  While doing so he trips cracks open his head and his blood goes trickling down to the frozen river below where it resuscitates Dracula (who was turned into a vampiric popsicle down there in the previous Hammer installment (Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1966)).

This thunderstorm is of course a serious question of theodicy.  Is the storm evil?  That seems to be the indication of the weather suddenly becoming foul when the Monsignor attempts to bottle up the evil of the castle.  But why should the weather be controlled by the forces of darkness?  The storms should be essentially a neutral phenomenon.  Surely omnipotent deity would not cede control over something like the weather to the whim of evil?  Let us think of this instead as being a storm created by the forces of storytelling instead of a question of theology.  The storytellers needed a storm to create an element of fate that puts into motion the resurrection of the frozen Dracula.

So Dracula has risen from his grave, his frozen wet grave and now he wants to go home, but he finds that Thomas Wolfe was right and now he's pissed.  Dracula decides to take his vengeance out on the Monsignor and luckily for the Count the Monsignor has a very pretty niece.   And because he really is evil Dracula turns the priest into his minion to help him enact his revenge.  Who would suspect that a priest is actually serving the cause of evil?  Ahem, who would have suspected that in 1968?  These days we'd suspect that the mute boy in the church was mute because of something the priest did.  At any rate, turning the (nominal) servant of all that is good into a servant of evil is a bit of a coup for Dracula. 

Next Dracula goes after Zena the barmaid, who has a bit of a thing for Paul but manages to keep it nobly unrequited.  Zena is bitten and turned into a minion of Dracula.  The lower class woman is expendable here (whereas the higher class Maria is a treasure to be guarded.) and likewise her virtue is suspect whereas even though Maria goes out of her way to sneak around town and see Paul she still maintains a front of purity, while Zena has no pretense at expressing her sexuality.  Once she's under Dracula's control she is eager to please him.  Unfortunately for Zena she gets the "You have failed me for the first time and thus you have failed me for the last time" treatment from Dracula.  Lucky for Dracula he still has the priest to clean up his mess.  

Maria is eventually bitten by Dracula, because that's what Dracula does.  He uses women and sometimes he intends for them to be special companions. If her daddy's rich, he might even take her out for a meal, but if the girl is poor then Dracula does as he feels. 

The Monsignor has to die.  You know that's coming because he's too much of an even match for Dracula.  He's the Van Helsing of the movie.  Also, the death of the Monsignor forces a crisis of faith onto Paul.  In this story Dracula can only be defeated by faith.  Paul is a committed atheist.  You know where this is going.  Paul fights the priest and manages to turn him back to the good guys side.  But the priest is pretty useless.  Even though he and Paul drive a stake into Dracula they don't complete the religious ritual required (only in this film) to finish the job.  Thus, Dracula waits until they're gone and pulls out the stake and goes about his business.  And his business is draining people of blood.  

The Count abducts Maria and heads to his castle. There's a chase scene, horse drawn carriage style.  Dracula takes Maria up to his castle and uses her to get rid of the giant gold cross/plot device blocking his door.  She chucks the cross down from the heights but it lands perfectly upright, just as you might expect from a giant gold plot device.

That's when the boys show up.   And this time they mean business.   Paul finds the strength to throw Dracula down into the valley where he lands right on the giant gold plot device/cross that had (by the divine hand of Providence) landed upright on that very spot.  But that just means they've got Dracula pinned on a stake.  He can't free himself the way he did when he pulled the stake out of his chest earlier.  This gives the priest a chance at redemption and he manages to recite the Lord's Prayer.  (Really, that's the ritual required?)  That's what turns Dracula into dust.  Paul (and the priest) save Maria and Paul as a last gesture crosses himself, presumably because after what he's seen he has been driven back into the arms of religion.  

So like I said, this film is overtly about faith in traditional religion.  The priest loses his congregation because in some way his faith was inadequate to the task of keeping Dracula away.   This compounds his own lack of faith and drives him to drink.  But he is redeemed.  As for the Monsignor, he has faith and traditional conservative religious values but he is a relic of a dying civilization who must give way to the younger generation (and some of their radical values.)  He is redeemed in some way by his recognition that Paul's feelings for his niece are genuine and that the young man has admirable qualities notwithstanding his atheism.  

One thing I've noticed is that whereas the Hammer Frankenstein films are only loosely connected and in many ways should be viewed as independent stories the Hammer Dracula Franchise (from Dracula Prince of Darkness on) were directly linked with the previous film and with the aforementioned film skipping all the way back to the first of the Hammer Draculas.  In some ways this creates some problems and conundrums but at least in this film it doesn't detract from the story. 

I think in many ways this is the last really solid Hammer Dracula and certainly the last one where Dracula is the real focus.  In that regard it is a film that has some nostalgia goggles attached if taken in context.  (Sort of like watching the last Buffy or Angel episode before a really major change occurs.)  If you go back to it you'll have a much different feeling about it than you do if you just see it in sequence or completely by itself.  One of the advantages of a loose sequel style is that neither the audience nor the storytellers are bound by characters and situations that come before or after the story.  This can be a liability when it comes to character investment, but it can be a strength in that it avoids adaptation decay.  The one character in this case who we have to worry about is Dracula, who by this time has been sort of killed too many times, each time in a way that should be a definitive end. 

Cast
Dracula -- Christopher Lee
Monsignor Ernest Mueller -- Rupert Davies
Anna Mueller -- Marion Mathie
Maria Mueller -- Veronica Carlson
Paul -- Barry Andrews
Zena -- Barbara Ewing
Max -- Michael Ripper
Priest -- Ewan Hooper
Mute Boy -- Norman Bacon
Student -- John D. Collins
Landlord -- George A. Cooper
Farmer -- Chris Cunningham

Music by James Bernard
Cinematography by Arthur Grant 

Hammer of Dracula

Horror of Dracula (1958)
Directed by Terence Fisher
Screenplay by Jimmy Sangster

Horror of Dracula, also known as just plain Dracula, is one of the original recipe Hammer Horror films from the late 1950s.  As such it is a landmark in cinematic history.  While we're still waiting for a US release of the new restored edition on Blu Ray we'll take another quick look at this classic.

Fan Points
Christopher Lee as Dracula and Peter Cushing as Van Helsing.  Done.  That should be enough.  This is the first of the Hammer Draculas, the first Dracula in color.  The Hammer supporting cast features some gem performances.

In this film Count Dracula seems to start out content to remain in his own neighborhood until Jonathan Harker shows up to catalog his library.  Harker, of course, is not just there to catalog a library.  Harker is already a vampire hunter and is there to hunt Count Dracula.  We don't know if Harker's ruse was successful because ultimately his mission is a failure.  He does take out Dracula's unnamed vampire ladyfriend, which may explain Dracula's decision to go after the women in Harker's life.  Why would Harker go after Count Dracula by himself?  It seems like the kind of mission that requires an actual team (as is eventually the case in both the novel and this film at the end.)  Clearly Van Helsing and Harker are already in the business of vampire hunting.  Why does Harker take such a big chance against Dracula?  Well, maybe the thing we have to consider is that in the fictional world we're talking about Dracula is not quite Dracula.  And by that I mean to say that in the fiction the character of Dracula does not come with the same obvious baggage that the name carries for any of us.  Harker is thus on a reconnaissance mission to find out if this Dracula fellow is the cause of the vampire stories coming out of the frightened townsfolk of Klausenberg.

As for Dracula, he must have a regular series of household job listings he puts out on the 19th century Craig's List in order to lure people to his castle and drink their blood.  Clearly Dracula and his lady friend get their regular supply from the locals, but ordering in every so often provides an occasional opportunity to avoid the hunting and just stay home.   Harker just happened to be a hunter in the bargain.  And that's why Dracula has to make an example of him and follow him to where he came from.  Dracula has decided to take the fight to his enemy and fight them there before he has to fight them back home on the defensive.

Like any offensive expedition Dracula's invasion is a risky proposition since he has to take his resting place with him.  Dracula's logistics are his point of vulnerability.  It's all about strategy and tactics.
While retaining the original names the film maintains a general Central European German milieu for the action.  In the novel and even in Nosferatu, the vampire arrives by sea.  Dracula's return to Transylvania is serious ordeal of timetables in the novel.  Here he as an internal line of communication back to his home base.  It's just a matter of a simple carriage race back and forth.  And once Dracula's opponent is as cunning as Van Helsing then suddenly Dracula is on the defensive.

Cushing's first Van Helsing outing represents the character as ultra-competent.  The fight is difficult and nobody quite wants to believe him at first, but ultimately he is a quite competent occult scientist.

Occult scientist?  How can we even use those terms in conjunction?  This is the central conceit of Dracula and it is central in this film as well.  Van Helsing is not a believer in superstition.  But he is aware of the existence of things that are considered supernatural.  It is his power of scientific observation that prevents him from dismissing the vampire stories the way his post-Enlightenment scientific peers dismiss the local superstitions.  Van Helsing does not dismiss superstition out of hand, but instead pursues it to greater knowledge.  In this case the knowledge is a series of specific quantifiable rules of vampirism.  And although the rules of vampirism are suspiciously based on objects and articles of faith/religion it is ultimately a quite rational irrationalism we're talking about.
The truly supernatural would be something that has no rules.  But these vampires are quite rationally designed/created.  They have to follow certain rules, sleep in a coffin filled with their local soil (bound by the accident of geologic specificity) and they can be killed in a myriad of ways.   The centrality of Christianity to vampire stories is something that is only being slightly addressed even after more than a century of these stories.   And there's more to say about that later.

As for sexuality, there is more of it on the cover for this film than in the film itself.  That's not to say that there is none, but just that it is almost as sublimated as it is in the novel.   Jonathan Harker is somewhat lured by the attractiveness of Dracula's ladyfriend (not knowing she was his vampire ladyfriend) but it seems to be equally based on believing her to be Dracula's prisoner.  (Would he have helped her out if she was a wart-faced hag?  Or an obese hirsute dude?  Would any of us deal with people with equanimity in that regard?)  Dracula goes after Lucy and turns her (in some way as the ultimate revenge on Harker and also as a means of replacing his lost minion) and it is clear that his visitations to her bedchamber are moments of ecstatic rapture for her (even if they do leave her utterly and fatally drained).  Curiously, when Lucy is turned she attempts to feed on children (hunting the ultimate symbols of innocence.)

Not content with Lucy, the Count goes after Mina as well.  Mina is married to Arthur and seems to be a quite respectable middle class housewife.  Thus, when Dracula goes after Mina it is a direct assault on the cornerstone of middle class morality.  Dracula is (metaphorically) sexually assaulting (but also even more dangerously, sexually awakening) the very heart of the family unit, and the bastion of contemporary (late 19th century) civilization.  Thus Arthur Holmwood is a metaphor for the cuckolded husband and the Count is the ultimate slick seducer.  (And it would take supernatural capabilities to make his wife cheat on him, right?)  And Dr. Van Helsing is that guy who'll help you kill the guy who slept with your wife.  Wait, what?

Yeah, the metaphor falls apart a little there because in that regard Van Helsing is a little bit of cheated upon partner wish fulfillment.

At any rate, Horror of Dracula delivers on the Gothic premise both visually and in terms of storytelling. The pace is slightly quicker and steadier than Curse of Frankenstein and like that film it is the closest that any of the Hammer films gets to the original version of the story and to the Universal films for that matter.

Cast
Jonathan Harker -- John Van Eyssen
Arthur Holmwood -- Michael Gough
Mina Holmwood -- Melissa Stribling
Lucy Holmwood -- Carol Marsh
Gerda -- Olga Dickie
Tania -- Janina Faye
Inga -- Barbara Archer
Dr. Seward -- Charles Lloyd Pack
Dr. Abraham Van Helsing -- Peter Cushing
Count Dracula -- Christopher Lee
Vampire Woman -- Valerie Gaunt
Landlord -- George Woodbridge
J. Marx, Undertaker -- Miles Malleson
Porter -- Geoffrey Bayldon
Policeman -- George Meritt
Frontier Official -- George Benson

Music by James Bernard
Cinematography by Jack Asher

Return to The Mummy

The Mummy (1959)
Directed by Terence Fisher
Screenplay by Jimmy Sangster

Revisiting the first Hammer foray into mummyland and I'm still a fan of this one.  Having delved even further into the depths of the Hammer catalogue I can now say with more confidence that the 1959 mummy stands out as a gem of the classic Hammer horror set.

Let's get the fan review out of the way.  If you want to explore Hammer films this is an essential.  Fan of mummy movies?  Essential.  Christopher Lee, with and without a massive amount of makeup.  Peter Cushing back when he was the young lead.   (He seems so much older as Van Helsing in the 1958 Hammer Dracula.)  The English country setting gives us some nice low comic stylings that reoccur in other Hammer films from this period and thus if you aren't a fan of Michael Ripper going in you will become one.  

The film itself is one part archaeological adventure, one part ancient Egyptian epic sampler and one part  drawing room murder mystery.

And of course there's the post-colonial discourse of the film.  Nowadays we might forget just how fresh the Anglo-French Suez crisis was in the minds of the British audience for this film.  It must have made for a very different attitude towards the Egyptian villain of the piece.   Mehemet Bey is indeed a curious character.  He is a closet worshipper of Karnak.  (Though the definition of closet is stretched by the large room he uses as a shrine in his rented house in England.)  The closet worshipper of an ancient religion is a familiar trope in adventure stories because it opens the door to exotic (inventive and invented) practices and rituals that make for more exciting stories than what you might get if Mehemet Bey was merely a moderately devout Muslim looking to recover antiquities with which he has no spiritual connection.   Instead he is a fanatic follower of Karnak and he has with him the living dead mummy of Kharis.  Putting off the backstory of Kharis for a second, Mehemet Bey uses Kharis like a golem.  It is ultimately his misuse of this instrument that causes his destruction.  Well, maybe not so much misuse as a misunderstanding of Kharis.  Sure, Kharis was the high priest of Karnak, but Mehemet Bey should have been more suspicious of Kharis's reliability as an instrument of service to Karnak.  After all, Kharis was entombed alive as a punishment for trying to resurrect the high priestess Ananka in order to engage in forbidden love with her.  So the whole reason that Kharis is there is because of his unreliability when it comes to obedience to the rules of Karnak.  Mehemet Bey should have known better.  Sure, what were the odds that he'd run into someone who is a dead ringer for the Princess Ananka?  But on the other hand, the only thing we know about Kharis is that he violated Karnak's sacred rules.  There's a logical fallacy at the heart of the punishment meted out to Kharis in the first place.  Kharis is obsessed with Ananka.  Ananka dies and he tries to bring her back to life in order to consummate his love for her.  (We are never informed about how Ananka felt about Kharis, mind you.)  Kharis is caught before he can resurrect Ananka.  His tongue is cut out and he is entombed alive, in the tomb of the woman he was obsessed with and so that he could be the guardian of her tomb.  Cutting out the tongue?  Yeah, that's a punishment.  But what part of putting him eternally close to the object of his obsession is supposed to be a punishment for Kharis?

At any rate, Mehemet Bey is determined to punish those who violated the tomb of Ananka and he does have the perfect instrument to enact vengeance since nobody cares more about Ananka than Kharis.  But Mehemet Bey's key flaw is that he believes Ananka is sacred because of her status as a priestess of Karnak, whereas Kharis was and is in love with Ananka.  Mehemet Bey underestimates the unpredictability of love.  Of course, what were the odds that one of the people he's hunting down would be married to someone who looks just like Ananka?  And how much of a facial match would someone have to be for Kharis's Ananka-radar to kick in?  Isobel Banning is an exact match.  What if someone was a 75% match?  Well, we do know that Kharis doesn't recognize Isobel as a match for Ananka if her hair is up, so even with a dead ringer Kharis isn't completely fooled.  And so, while Kharis is "fooled" by Isobel into believing she is Ananka and thus he unravels Mehemet Bey's revenge plan, on the other hand it is not pure Enlightenment rationality that wins the day because the mummy could only be fooled because of the miraculous coincidence (or should we call it fate?) of the resemblance of Isobel and Ananka.

One of the strange things that comes from this story is that while Stephen Banning, the man of science (archaeology, Egyptology), comes through against the closet cult fanatic (and possibly some form of apostate or closeted nonbeliever) it is not the values of science and enlightenment that prevail, per se.  The Bannings prevail because they recognize the existence of the irrational and mysterious and engage it to their benefit.  It's not exactly a victory of modern science, it's a victory of ancient irrationality.  At the end of the film the rational world has to deal with the genuine existence of the living dead and magical scrolls that can bring people back to life.  That's hardly a victory for the rational world.
But of course, the most irrational thing in this movie is love and yet for all its irrationality and the inability to scientifically prove its existence (show me a molecule of love) it does seem to be quite real.
And so Kharis's ancient love for Ananka wins out in the end.  Sort of.  He's now dead in an English bog and she's probably going to be on display in a museum.   Not exactly a love story for the ages.

While most of the main story of the film takes place in England and plays out in and around the Banning drawing room the discovery of the tomb in Egypt and even more so the ancient flashback that are the most vivid parts of the film.  The mass human sacrifice at the burial of Ananka is so tastefully played out that you might be forgiven if you don't notice that a lot of people are killed to join Ananka in her tomb.

So, were the archaeologists wrong to explore the tomb?  Was their search for knowledge (in this case knowledge about the past through archaeological study) akin to Victor Frankenstein's pursuit of forbidden experimentation?  I suppose one of the problems with cinematic archaeology is that the complete backstory of the archaeological discovery seems to always be available.  The archaeologists in this case know everything about the story of Ananka and Kharis.  All they need to do now is find the tomb.  This is one of the most unrealistic tropes that you can imagine.  I know this is a mummy story and not an archaeology story, but it would be nice to see some cinematic archaeology that doesn't involve already knowing the complete story of an archaeological discovery before you find an artifact.

Notwithstanding that last bit of crankiness I have always enjoyed this film and having seen some of Hammer's later forays into Egypt I have to say this is one that stands the test of time both compared to later mummy films (and yes, that includes all those Brendan Fraser vehicles) and to the earlier Universal mummy franchise.  Note also the joy to be found in a simple story with lowered stakes (still life or death, mind you) as opposed to the world-killing dust storms of the contemporary CGI era.  It doesn't always have to be the end of the world.

Cast
Stephen Banning -- Felix Aylmer
Joseph Whemple -- Raymond Huntley
John Banning -- Peter Cushing
Isobel Banning/Princess Ananka -- Yvonne Furneaux
Kharis -- Christopher Lee
Inspector Mulrooney -- Eddie Byrne
P.C. Blake -- George Woodbridge
Dr. Reilly --Willoughby Gray
Pat -- Harold Goodwin
Mike -- Denis Shaw
Poacher -- Michael Ripper
Mehemet Bey -- George Pastell

Cinematography -- Jack Asher
Music by Franz Reizenstein

Special Features
1. Theatrical Trailer

Frankenstein in Gaol

Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1973)
Directed by Terence Fisher
Screenplay by Roy Skeggs

If Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed represented an Endarkenment version of the title character, then Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell is a return to a mostly Enlightenment gone wrong interpretation.   Whereas in the earlier film Victor Frankenstein really was a monster, in the latter film he is once again merely a brilliant man who likes to experiment in abominations.  In fact, in this film Victor  is more moral than the character portrayed by Peter Cushing back in 1957.

Let's start with the fan aspects.  This is Peter Cushing's last appearance as Victor Frankenstein in a Hammer film.   It is also the first film pairing for Grand Moff Tarkin (Cushing) and Darth Vader (David Prowse).  This is Terence Fisher's final film.  If you're a fan of Bond films you'll notice that Tarmut the sculptor is M (Bernard Lee).   And for the Whovians, the bodysnatcher is Patrick Troughton, the Second Doctor.   And since Peter Cushing played the Doctor in two films from the '60s that means that technically there are two doctors in this film.   And then there's Madeline Smith who was a Bond girl in Live and Let Die. In a remarkably refreshing decision the filmmakers don't give in to the worst excesses of the 70s and keep their female lead clothed and Ms. Smith manages to be quite expressive for the major portion of the film where her character is mute.

As with other Hammer films from this period there is an attempt to pair their older stars with younger counterparts in a sometimes muddled attempt to pass the torch.   And while there are some attempts at a continuity of Victor Frankenstein in the Hammer series it is a very loose continuity and in many ways it is best to pretend that the character who perished in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed actually did die and that this character is another version entirely, especially since this Frankenstein incarnation is mostly benign.  I mean, apart from the murders of course.  But I'll come back to that in a moment.

The film commences with the young Simon Helder exercising his fan appreciation of Dr. Frankenstein by reading his book and attempting to continue the experimental progress of the Baron.  Unfortunately the law is not particularly kind to Dr. Helder's science and he is arrested and put on trial.  The policeman and the judge are model representatives of an unimaginative society.  Simon seems almost delighted to be sentenced to the same mental institution that Baron Frankenstein was sent to, because of course Simon really wants to be just like his role model.  As for the crimes involved, it's interesting to note that while in Curse of Frankenstein the Baron's only known crime was murder, here he (and Simon) are being specifically condemned for their abominable scientific experiments.  (Or at least for the illegal trafficking in body parts and grave robbing that are required for their research.)

Once Simon arrives at the institution he is initially mistaken for a visitor by the befuddled director Klauss who is furious at being deceived.  Klauss and his henchmen are not only incompetent but they are also quite corrupt.  If the law enforcement and judicial system on the outside are unimaginative and somewhat repressive they are not overtly corrupt or evil.  In the asylum, though, the system is brutal and corrupt.  It is no surprise that it turns out that Baron Frankenstein faked his death and has taken up the position of asylum doctor continuing his experiments with equipment provided by Klauss through threat of blackmail.  Klauss is so obviously incompetent that it's hard to believe he is afraid of being held to account for his job competence.  Instead, it turns out that Frankenstein rescued Klauss's daughter Sarah from an attempted rape (the shock of which left her mute) and has achieved his state within a state through the threat of blackmail.  This leaves Victor Frankenstein in a strange state of moral ambiguity.  On the one hand he is certainly a more benign and competent presence than Klauss.  (e.g. The brutal hazing Klauss's henchmen give to Simon, scarring his back with a forced shower with the high pressure water hose.)  But Victor's motivations aren't in any way altruistic (he wants the freedom to work on his experiments) unless you believe entirely in the notion that Frankenstein's experiments represent scientific progress in which case you might at least buy some portion of the argument that it is important to support his experiments.  Of course, Frankenstein's actual experiments undercut the notion that he is really achieving progress for humanity and the expansion of scientific knowledge.

But the bigger problem with Frankenstein's ethics is the fact that he does murder inmates in order to collect their most prized body parts.  Tarmut the sculptor, for instance, is killed for his hands.  In the case of Durendel, meanwhile, Victor drives the poor man to suicide in order to collect his brain.  Whatever kind of relative goodness we want to believe separates Frankenstein from Klauss, these acts of murder (there is no other word for it) undercut the sympathy we might have for Victor.  Sure, he's not a rapist in this film and he doesn't murder anyone for mere convenience as he did with Justine in Curse of Frankenstein, but nonetheless he is actually killing people in this film and in the case of Tarmut and Durendel they are seemingly very nice people.

As for Frankenstein's creature in this film it really is a creature.  It is not so much a monster from hell as a monster from a very large bath drain.  Herr Schneider is described as feral.  I think that's a real understatement.  Herr Schneider is as apelike as Mighty Joe Young.  (But the beast can be soothed with music--or rendered unconscious with a serious dose of chloroform.)
It's difficult to imagine what Frankenstein was thinking when he decided to use a hirsute beast as the base model for his cobbled together life form.  Even Frankenstein seems to acknowledge this when the beast is torn to pieces by a mob of inmates.  (The culmination of the film, mind you.)  The Baron shrugs it off says that it's "best thing that could have happened" and starts planning for a new experiment.  Simon and Sarah have the most priceless expressions as they realize that Frankenstein is simply shaking it off and moving on as if the entire "crisis" of the film was merely a bad inning and that there's still plenty of baseball to be played.   There is some ambiguity as to their enthusiasm for continuing to serve as Frankenstein's sidekicks as they seem to betray a sense of disbelief in Frankenstein's near delusional final monologue.  But on the other hand, with Klauss dead and Frankenstein now unrestricted in his control of the asylum that might be better than leaving things to the mob rule of the inmates or to whatever cruel and unusual new director the governing authorities might think to send in to replace Klauss.  There is every reason to believe that the outside world will not even notice Klauss's absence and will be content to not know anything about what goes on in the asylum.  (And once people go in they never come out.)

Klauss's death is the one act of justice in the film, but it is, like the tearing apart of the creature, an act of mob disorder.  Like other cases of "poetic justice" or "street justice" we have to have a certain civilized revulsion at it even when it is somehow satisfying because we "know" the "truth" about the character.  Certainly the mob of inmates at the asylum know plenty about Klauss's abuses.  They might have every moral right to take out vengeance for the wrongs done unto them.  It may be ethically compromised but at least the audience and characters are all aware that Klauss has it coming.  The creature is certainly violent, but does it really deserve to be torn into pieces?  Frankenstein is right in the sense that it is certainly a convenient way of ending the experiment and the creature will no longer threaten anyone.  But the creature, while achieving cleverness, does not really seem to have awareness of right and wrong, just feral rage.  Frankenstein, on the other hand, actually murders at least one person (and has probably done away with many more) driven some others to death and is even at the end of the film planning more murders.  He is delusional enough to think of the murders as involuntary organ and tissue donations.  To his credit, though, Frankenstein does his best to conceal the actual murders from Simon and Sarah (thus insulating them from complete complicity).  And his affection for Sarah and Simon seems to be genuine and paternal.

Simon and Sarah are complicit in the criminal aspect of Frankenstein activities now that they are fully aware of what he's up to.   We have no idea about their level of cooperation with the Baron in the future, but they really don't have any escape.  Of course, the trio will probably rule the asylum in a more benevolent fashion than Klauss, but Frankenstein is still planning to kill more people.  That's what leaves us with a sense of unease as the film closes.  As a valedictory film in the Hammer Frankenstein franchise Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell is a fine example of non-closure.  There is no burning castle, no execution, no disastrous plunge from a great height.  There's just the eternal tinkerer going back to the drawing board to keep working on his "science."

Cast
Baron Victor Frankenstein -- Peter Cushing
Dr. Simon Helder -- Shane Briant
Adolff Klauss -- John Stratton
Sarah Klauss -- Madeline Smith
Herr Schneider, The Creature -- David Prowse
Durendel -- Charles Lloyd Pack
Tarmut -- Bernard Lee
Transient -- Michael Ward
Wild One -- Elsie Wagstaff
Ernst -- Philip Voss
Hans -- Chris Cunningham
Old Hag -- Lucy Griffiths
Muller -- Sydney Bromley
Brassy Girl -- Andrea Lawrence
Gerda -- Sheila D'Union
Smiler -- Norman Atkyns
Twitch -- Mischa De La Motte
Letch -- Victor Woolf
Mouse -- Winifred Sabine
Chatter -- Janet Hargreaves
Aggressive -- Gordon Richardson
Death Wish -- Nicholas Smith
Bodysnatcher -- Patrick Troughton
Police Sergeant -- Norman Mitchell
Judge -- Clifford Mollison
Landlord -- Jerold Wells
Coach Driver -- Peter Madden
Inmates -- Hugh Cecil, Ron Eagleton, Lianne Gilmore, Beatrice Greek, Toni Harris, Peter Macpherson

Music by James Bernard
Cinematography by Brian Probyn

Special Features
1. Commentary by Jonathan Sothcott, Madeline Smith & David Prowse
This is a gentle and genial commentary with authoritative moderation by Sothcott.   Prowse and Smith are quite affectionate and friendly and Sothcott keeps the commentary informative without being overly intrusive.  Everybody loved Peter Cushing.  Director Terence Fisher was a serious alcoholic and this was his final film.  (But he was also a very nice man.)

Frankenstein Must Still Be Destroyed

Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969)
Directed by Terence Fisher
Screenplay by Bert Batt

A second look at this Hammer production makes me think I had underrated it before.  For one thing, this film actually revolves around the notion that the brains Frankenstein transplants retain their memories and personalities even after surgery.  Having retained that memory, the "creature" of this film also bears a distinct grudge against the Baron.  In this iteration Frankenstein is not so much creating life as prolonging it or resurrecting it in some ways.  Thus, the Baron is not responsible for the generation of a new soul but must instead contend with a pre-existing personality.

One thing that remains consistent is the Baron's megalomania and singleminded pursuit of his quest for the source of life.  As in Hammer's earliest adaptation The Curse of Frankenstein the Baron is not above pursuing desires of the flesh.  By contemporary standards the scene where Victor Frankenstein rapes Anna Spengler is not particularly graphic, but the intent is still brutal.  I can see how the directness of the violent action would be disconcerting to those having to perform the scene, especially if the backstory of its addition to the film is to be believed.  But like the earlier incarnation's treatment of the relationship of Frankenstein and his servant Justine, Victor's rape of Anna is perfectly in keeping with a character who has no regard for the lives of others.  And it is quite in keeping with a Victor Frankenstein who is already morally bankrupt at the beginning of the film. 

The film commences with Victor lopping off the heads of unsuspecting Germans.  Thus, Frankenstein is no longer content robbing graves but instead starts off as a serial murderer.  Any pretense of a scientific desire for knowledge is utterly lost.   This is not the story of a person who means well but gets caught using bad means for a good purpose.  Here, Victor is already just running around murdering people to collect body parts.   In this film he doesn't even get close to pursuing his original task of creating life.  He's just doing what he can to crack open the addled brain of Dr. Brandt in order to get a key piece of scientific information that he needs to continue in his experiments.  It's the ultimate red herring of a plot device because as far as anyone knows Brandt's information could be a dead end (though Brandt reveals it to be useful later) and even with Brandt's secret all Frankenstein gets is another piece of the puzzle that combined with his own knowledge might (might, mind you) lead to new discoveries.  

From a structural standpoint, there's a lot to be said for this lowering of stakes.  Instead of a ridiculous world killing death ray with a ticking clock what we have is a much more scientifically realistic scenario.  One person desires something that when combined with something else could lead to another thing.  The thing itself does not have to be earth-shattering.   It is the desire for the thing that leads people to kill for it.  The possibility that the thing itself isn't worth killing people for doesn't make the story stupid, it makes the murdering much more poignant if also absurd.  (e.g. The Maltese Falcon.)  In this film Frankenstein (and the writers) seem to have forgotten why Frankenstein was experimenting to begin with.  It hardly seems to matter anymore. 

What makes this film interesting is that the moral complexity is heightened by the fact that the most sympathetic characters (Anna and Karl) are themselves ethically compromised.  Karl is stealing drugs from his job to sell on the black market.  He is doing this to help his fiancee Anna pay for the expensive healthcare for Anna's mother.  It is an obvious parallel to Frankenstein's original premise of helping cure the world of death with his experiments.   Anna and Karl are a microcosmic version of the Baron.  They are trying to save one life.  For that they need money.  Anna's boarding house and Karl's job presumably provide barely enough income to keep Anna and Karl financially secure.  Anna's mother has no doubt exhausted any savings that might have existed and so there is an income gap when it comes to providing for her care.  She could be relegated to lesser forms of care, but we are assured that anything less than what she is currently getting will put her on the road to termination but that if Karl and Anna can keep the money flowing Anna's mother will not only survive but steadily improve.   It's a real ethical conundrum.   Anna and Karl are both essentially employed full time.  Anna has her hands full keeping the boarding house in good order.  Karl is working full time at the psychiatric institution.   There are few ways for them to make enough money to make up the difference.  There are certainly some legal options open to them for some added income (grow some potatoes in the garden?)  but we're not talking about significant supplementary income.   The only other obvious (and also illegal) way of supplementing their income is for Anna or Karl to sell their own bodies to willing customers.  And it's not like these folks are living in the early 19th century version of Las Vegas where they could sell themselves to real high rollers.  We're talking middle class Germany and Anna is a respectable woman.  Even if we were to believe she could take up something less than prostitution (some form of Lutheran exotic dancing?)  it would be something considered unsavory enough to potentially jeopardize her income from the boarding house.  Anna's rent from boarders is entirely dependent on the perceived respectability of her house.

This is the part where some sort of health care reform would have been very useful.  If Anna's mother had access to some sort of national health care program her daughter would not have to become an accessory to illegal narcotic trafficking.  Insofar as we might imagine a rich tradition of charitable institutions and programs in Western Europe they seem to be of no use to Anna's mother who needs full time specialized medical care.  The private sphere has no desire to reduce the financial burden on Anna's mother and thus on Anna.  It's the triumph of the free market.  The free market has created an incentive for people to provide the specialized medical care that Anna's mother needs but don't they deserve to profit from their own investment and labor?   Of course, if Anna and Karl don't sell stolen drugs then they can't afford the expensive medical care and Anna's mother will deteriorate and die and thus provide no financial benefit to the providers of that health care.  Their customer will die. 
The free market doesn't care. 

So what's the point of this digression.  Only to point out that there is a structural villain in this story that is worse than Victor Frankenstein.  The free market system which provides no relief to people in life or death situations such as medical care (and the state which has absented itself from the issue entirely) are the villains that force Anna and Karl into the abject choice of crime in order to get money, sell off what little capital they own thus destroying their own future to save Anna's mother, or to do nothing and let Anna's mother die.  It is an impossible moral and ethical choice for them.  They make the choice that turns them into criminals (thus the least ethical choice) but it is also the most morally acceptable choice since it is the only choice that doesn't condemn someone to either death or grinding poverty.  Of course, its still not a good choice because the black market narcotics are no doubt also going to ruin some lives.   But this wouldn't have to be the case if there was a means of subsidizing those who need life-saving medical care.   It would seem to be the most moral choice.  
But in the world of this story nobody wants to provide that assistance.

Anna and Karl's ethical impurity makes them vulnerable to Victor Frankenstein's blackmail.  Victor then forces Anna to evict the other tenants of the boarding house thus making her completely dependent on, and at the mercy of, Frankenstein.  Karl is blackmailed into assisting Frankenstein in larceny and in the course of acquiring medical supplies Karl murders a security guard.   Karl is now completely compromised ethically.  His motivations no longer matter.  He is now complicit in Frankenstein's crimes.  Victor and Karl collaborate to medically murder Professor Richter, whose body is used as a vessel for Dr. Brandt's brain.   Professor Richter's brain is considered of insufficient value for Frankenstein to attempt to keep alive.

Brandt in the form of the Creature (with Richter's body) seems to be less morally or ethically compromised than any of the other characters.  Of course, Brandt was involved in the same sort of forbidden experimentation as Baron Frankenstein, but Brandt had the good grace to go completely mad upon gazing upon discovering forbidden knowledge.  Restored to his senses, Brandt makes no compromise with Frankenstein and sees the swapping of brain and body as nothing more than abomination.  (And useless abomination since Brandt's wife rejects him in the new body so he has no personal happiness to gain from Frankenstein's act.)  In fact the only use that Brandt has in Richter's body is to provide Frankenstein with the information he desires.  (It is probable that Frankenstein would dispose of Brandt once he was no longer of scientific use.)

Ella Brandt is certainly sympathetic even as the situation forces her to become something of a structural antagonist for the audience.   Since we spend most of our time with Karl and Anna they are our protagonists structurally.  We are sympathetic with Anna when she is trying to conceal Dr. Brandt's discarded body and before that when she is trying to keep Frau Brandt from discovering Frankenstein's presence.  Ella is not at fault for her disbelief when her husband comes to their house in another man's body.  It is hardly credible.  Similarly, we cannot fault her for imagining that her husband is dead when she identifies his body buried in Anna's garden.  It is what makes Brandt's attempt to communicate with her that much more poignant.

Does Anna have to die?  It depends on the reason for it in the story.  It would seem that Anna's death serves to provide Karl with a burning desire for vengeance that matches Brandt's fury thus pitting Victor against two mortal enemies and with the police closing in to boot.  Anna is inherently sympathetic.  Her motives have been pure though her actions have led her to ruin.   She has at best been an accessory to the crimes and she does not take an active hand in the worst of them.  And having already destroyed her life Frankenstein also physically violates her.  She serves as a symbol of the reason why "Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed."  But why should Karl live when Anna dies?  Is this some sort of sinister gender politics?  Karl has actually murdered at least one person and has effectively allowed another to die through the removal and discarding of his brain.  Also he has stolen drugs and sold them to traffickers.  It's certainly not a case of those who have been ethically compromised not being allowed to survive.  Karl survives...alone.  It's hard to imagine what his future will be.  Jail?  Execution? Any life Karl has from here on out is going to be with some tremendous emotional baggage, that's for sure.  The same baggage (and then some) would have been there for Anna if she could have survived the stabbing.  Anna never tells Karl about the rape.  Would she have told him?  If she had, what would his reaction have been in the short term and in the long term?  If she would not have told him what would that secret have done to her in the long run?  I don't know what the motive of the writer or director was in killing off Anna, but I hope it wasn't a retrograde trope of killing off the woman who has been somehow sullied. 

I would like to note again the sheer joy to be had in the comic bungling of Police Inspector Frisch in this film and the counterpoint of the clearly long-suffering sidekick Police Doctor.  The scene with the undertaker alone is worth paying the Hammer tax and watching this film more than once. 

Cast
Baron Victor Frankenstein -- Peter Cushing
Anna Spengler -- Veronica Carlson
Dr. Karl Holst -- Simon Ward
Dr. Frederick Brandt -- George Pravda
Ella Brandt -- Maxine Audley
Professor Richter -- Freddie Jones
Inspector Frisch -- Thorley Walters
Police Doctor -- Geoffrey Bayldon
Madwoman -- Colette O'Neil
Guest (Plumber) -- Frank Middlemass
Guest (Chess Player) -- George Belbin
Guest (Pipe Smoker) -- Norman Shelley
Guest (Newspaper Reader) -- Michael Gover
Dr. Heidecke -- Jim Collier

Cinematography by Arthur Grant
Music by James Bernard 

The Curse of Frankenstein Revisited

The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)
directed by Terence Fisher
written by Jimmy Sangster

Taking a recent second look at some of the old Hammer favorites I went back to the fountainhead of Hammer Horror, The Curse of Frankenstein because if you're going to watch the Hammer Horror Cycle you can't ignore the first one.

One thing I hadn't thought of in a long time was just how much of the film is spent in "doing science" and how little screen time the Creature gets.   If you keep a careful accounting of time you'll notice that the early events of the film move along at a leisurely pace but that once the monster is actually fully active things end pretty rapidly.   I'm sure there are some film schoolmasters who want to use this as an example of what not to do, but the actual result of this is that while action is delayed our investment in the characters is increased exponentially.   So much of this film is spent with people chatting that you can be forgiven for forgetting that there's human experimentation going on in the attic.

Speaking of human experimentation, the immorality of Frankenstein stood out more this time as did Victor's sense of class entitlement.   Young Victor is interested in science, but he's also a privileged brat.  That sense of aristocratic privilege comes back later when Victor refuses to marry the pregnant Justine.  He never has any intention of marrying her and in terms of his own legalistic sense of honor he never tells her he will marry her.  She states that he will be convinced "because of this..." and then kisses him.  He never gives any confirmation to her that her kiss (and anything that might follow) has convinced him to marry her.  It is, in fact, inconceivable that the haughty Victor would deign to sully his name with marriage to a chambermaid.  He is honor bound and class bound to marriage to Elizabeth.  

So, what to make of his dalliance with Justine?   On the one hand it gives the lie to the notion of Victor as being too wrapped up in his science to give thought to the issues of daily life.
It would be more accurate to say that science is his only passion, but that his relationship with Justine is the mere fulfillment of base physical demands.  For Victor, a dalliance with Justine is akin to having a sandwich for lunch.  Other incarnations of Frankenstein lean towards the absent-minded professor who might even forget the sandwich, but it's interesting that this Victor Frankenstein is human enough to pursue a sexual appetite in addition to his high-minded enlightenment pursuit of science and the secrets of life.  The fact that Victor and Justine have created life the old-fashioned way also stands in sharp relief to Victor's attempt to create life in a new and quite unnatural way.  Victor is already morally compromised by his treatment of Justine before he decides to lure her to her death and silence her attempt to blackmail him.  

Of course by the time Victor gets Justine killed by the Creature he has already murdered Professor Bernstein.  Paul Krempe might be considered morally complicit for not exposing Victor's activities (which would involve self-incrimination) but he gets a modicum of sympathy for attempting to save Elizabeth's reputation.  Is this a real concern, though?  Would Elizabeth's honor be dragged through the mud if Victor's grave robbing and other illegal activities are exposed?  Maybe, but what's more important is that Elizabeth is already known to be financially dependent on Victor.  Her marriage to Victor is in fact his payment for providing for the welfare of Elizabeth and her mother.  (So much for pure aristocratic honor and sense duty.  Victor doesn't provide for his aunt and cousin out of altruism but (in a very middle class mercantile way) expects recompense for that investment.  This also undercuts Victor's moral stature.   Paul knows that if the full range of Victor's illegal and immoral activities are exposed then his fortune might be forfeit and that would also hurt Elizabeth, who is completely innocent.  It is only when Elizabeth is in actual physical danger that Paul has no choice but to act.

Does Victor in any way redeem himself when faced with the Creature's attack on Elizabeth?  It seems that only then does he show that he might actually care about Elizabeth, but even then it is Paul who acts more effectively.  And Frankenstein is still morally and ethically responsible for once again reviving the Creature after its first murderous foray that resulted in the deaths of the old man and the young boy in the woods.   Paul, who knows enough of the story to corroborate Victor's prison confession refuses to do so.  While this leaves open the "insane nightmare" interpretation, it is just as likely that Paul sees no moral need to confirm Victor's narrative for the authorities when all relevant evidence has been destroyed and as it would not serve to save anyone, except for maybe Victor if he could convince a court that Justine's death was a regrettable accident.  Paul, who is already quite sure that Victor has gotten away with murder once and that Victor is responsible for any deaths caused by the creation and revival of the Creature, sees no cause to save his old friend by helping him weasel out of murder charges.  Paul may be concealing the full truth, but he is acting within an ethical code of protecting the innocent.  Elizabeth, the only truly innocent person in this film, is physically and financially safe now that Victor is bound for the guillotine.  Paul may have failed in teaching Victor ethics but he succeeds in saving at least one innocent from suffering because of Victor's single-minded desire.

Ultimately, Victor Frankenstein in this film is a single-minded megalomaniac.  He refuses to publish his early successes which might have been applied to improve medicine and save countless lives.  Paul sees the great potential for humanity in this, but Victor doesn't care about humanity.  Victor wants something else entirely: the godlike power of pure creation.  He is looking for the origin of life itself.  And he wants to have control over that.  And he's not looking for it in the name of any greater good.  He twists the pursuit of pure scientific discovery into something done entirely for personal aggrandizement, but what makes it exasperating is that even Victor seems to forget what the point of all that experimenting was in the first place.  For all his pursuit of personal greatness through discovering and harnessing the life force all that Victor really gets is the limited control over a monstrous creature.  His secrecy even prevents him from taking credit for any of the more useful incremental innovations that led up to his final experiment.  

And another issue is why does Victor think that a brain belonging to someone he murdered is going to be perfect for his creation?  Victor seems to place the blame of abnormality of the brain and Creature's murderous rage on the damage done to the brain when Paul struggles with him over it.   But even if the Bernstein's brain was completely undamaged wouldn't it carry the memory of the murder?  Victor's entire reason for using Bernstein's brain is that he is a great thinker at the height of his mental faculties.
Victor presumes that Bernstein's brain will retain all of that information and capability in its memory in the immediate aftermath of death.  But if the brain has its complete memory, wouldn't it also have the memory of its last moments?  For all his superior intelligence it seems that this does not occur to Victor. And it doesn't seem to occur to Paul, either, who could have used it to counter Victor's argument for using the brain.  In fact, this point is what drives the final act of Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed where brains and bodies are switched, and it in fact is a feature of some of the original Universal Frankenstein sequels that featured a lot of Freaky Friday body/soul switches.  

A good cast is still worth repeating
Baron Victor von Frankenstein -- Peter Cushing
Elizabeth -- Hazel Court
Dr. Paul Krempe -- Robert Urquhart
The Creature -- Christopher Lee
Justine -- Valerie Gaunt
Professor Bernstein -- Paul Hardtmuth
Aunt Sophia -- Noel Hood
Young Victor -- Melvyn Hayes
Young Elizabeth -- Sally Walsh
Priest -- Alex Gallier
Grandpa -- Fred Johnson
Little Boy -- Claude Kingston

Music by James Bernard
Cinematography by Jack Asher