'MASTER BUILDER' THE HAMMER HOUSE HINDS THAT HINDS BUILT

Hammer Film fans across the globe were saddened yesterday by the news that Anthony Hinds had passed away at the grand age of 91.  Hinds is seldom discussed as much as Peter Cushing.  Or Christopher Lee.  Or Terence Fisher.  Or Jimmy Sangster.  Or Jack Asher.  Or Bernard Robinson. But the fact remains, it was Hinds who assembled these gifted men, thus creating “Hammer Horror.”

Hinds was born in Middlesex, England, on September 19^th, 1922.  After a stint in the Royal Air Force, he accepted an invitation from his father, Will Hammer, to come and join the ranks at Exclusive Films.  In 1948, he produced his first picture, a modest potboiler named Who Killed Van Loon?.  Hinds displayed an ability to bring his films in on time and on budget and also showed a genuine concern for quality, which was something of a rare quality for men in his position in the lower echelons of British film production.  In 1954, Hinds produced The Quatermass Xperiment – in essence the first of Hammer (as the studio had by then been rechristened) Films’ major commercial successes.  A tight, well-paced adaptation of a hit TV serial by Nigel Kneale, the film disappointed its original writer, but proved to be a hit with audiences.  The film’s success prompted Hinds to push his friends and coworkers at the studio to develop an idea for a follow-up in a similar style.  Production manager Jimmy Sangster won the friendly competition by suggesting a story of radioactive mud which has undesirable effects on those who come into contact with it, and Sangster was then catapulted into a new career as a writer; Sangster always remembered Hinds for having the faith in him to allow him to write his first screenplay.  The success of these early black and white sci-fi/horror hybrids eventually lead Hammer, and Anthony Hinds, into a new direction…

American writer/producer Milton Subotsky approached Hinds with the idea of remaking James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931), but Hinds wasn’t exactly wild about the idea.  After considering his options, however, Hinds decided that a brand new approach to the Mary Shelley novel might prove rewarding – and he proceeded to assemble an ace team of artisans and technicians to make the picture.  It was Hinds who also decided to push for filming in color – a costly addition, in a sense, but one which the producer wisely realized would pay off in dividends.  The end result, The Curse of Frankenstein, would prove to be a watershed “event” in the evolution of the horror genre.  With its deceptively rich production values and then-scandalous dashes of blood and gore, the film would go on to become a box office triumph, revitalizing the popularity of Gothic horror films at the box office and putting Hammer on the map as a major player in the UK film production scene.  Hinds decided to reassemble the same team – director Terence Fisher, screenwriter Jimmy Sangster, cinematographer Jack Asher, production designer Bernard Robinson, composer James Bernard, and stars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee – for Dracula (1958), and the resulting film was met with critical consternation and tremendous box office numbers.  From this point on, Hammer was, as the saying goes, a force to be reckoned with.

Quite apart from being savvy enough to assemble the people who made these films so special, Hinds was also a rare producer who had genuine passion for film.  He took pride in his work, and expected others to do the same.  Hinds was by all accounts a humble, laid back individual – not exactly the kind of cigar chomping “mover and groover” one normally associates with producers.  His thoughtful disposition prompted him to push his collaborators to take their work seriously.  He knew the value of a pound, and saw to it that the films he produced were executed with a glossy veneer which hid their humble origins.  It was an attitude that he did his best to implement on every picture he ever produced.

In time, Hinds branched out yet again, this time becoming a screenwriter.  The story goes that Hammer’s planned historical epic, The Rape of Sabena, fell afoul of the British Board of Film Censors (BBFC), thus leaving Hinds in a bit of a predicament.  He had already authorized Bernard Robinson to build some imposing “Spanish” sets, and now that this particular property was dead in the water, he had to find a way to utilize these sets.  Hinds turned his attention to Guy Endore’s novel The Werewolf of Paris – realizing that Hammer had yet to make their own werewolf film, he decided to change the setting from Paris to Spain, thus enabling the studio to make use of these troublesome sets.  Looking to save a buck, Hinds elected to write the script himself – and he found that he preferred the process of creating scenarios to dealing with the bureaucratic nightmares associated with producing.  Hinds would continue to produce throughout the better part of the 1960s, but when he found himself working “under” American producer Joan Harrison on Hammer’s ill-fated venture into anthology television, Journey into the Unknown, he decided to call it a day.  Hinds would later recall working with Harrison (or as often was the case, being at loggerheads with her) on this problematic production to be a dispiriting affair which he was in no great hurry to relive.  And thus it came to be that producer/writer Anthony Hinds became “plain old” writer Anthony Hinds… or John Elder, as the self-effacing scribe decided that having his name plastered all over the credits might look a bit conceited.  As a writer, Hinds’ credits include Kiss of the Vampire (1962), Phantom of the Opera (1962), The Reptile (1966), Frankenstein Created Woman (1966), Taste the Blood of Dracula (1969), and Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1972).  He eventually left Hammer for a time, going to work for rival company Tyburn Productions.  For them, he scripted The Ghoul and Legend of the Werewolf in 1974.  His final credits would include an episode of Hammer House of Horror, titled Visitor from the Grave, and a “story by” credit on Tyburn’s made for TV Sherlock Holmes adventure, The Masks of Death (1984), starring Peter Cushing and John Mills.

Hinds went into retirement in the 80s, granting the occasional interview, but basically content to enjoy his “golden years” on his own terms.  A quiet, humble and unpretentious individual, he reacted with genuine surprise (and pride) when his many classic Hammer productions were dredged up and celebrated as classics of their kind.  True to form, Hinds never seemed to take himself too seriously – but his passion for the work itself was obvious.  With his passing on September 30^th (a mere 11 days after his birthday), the key architect of Hammer horror passed to the great beyond.  Indeed, of the key creative personnel who created this world that we fans know and revere so much, only one remains standing: Christopher Lee, himself a mere four months Hinds’ senior.  Hinds’ passing may not signal the end of an era, but it does put one in a reflective mood as we look back and celebrate the many wonderful achievements of one of the British film industry’s unsung treasures.

Troy Howarth

Hammer Film fans across the globe were saddened yesterday by the news that Anthony Hinds had passed away at the grand age of 91.  Hinds is seldom discussed as much as Peter Cushing.  Or Christopher Lee.  Or Terence Fisher.  Or Jimmy Sangster.  Or Jack Asher.  Or Bernard Robinson. But the fact remains, it was Hinds who assembled these gifted men, thus creating “Hammer Horror.” - See more at: http://petercushingblog.blogspot.co.uk/#sthash.ApafMCzc.dpuf

Hammer Film fans across the globe were saddened yesterday by the news that Anthony Hinds had passed away at the grand age of 91.  Hinds is seldom discussed as much as Peter Cushing.  Or Christopher Lee.  Or Terence Fisher.  Or Jimmy Sangster.  Or Jack Asher.  Or Bernard Robinson. But the fact remains, it was Hinds who assembled these gifted men, thus creating “Hammer Horror.” - See more at: http://petercushingblog.blogspot.co.uk/#sthash.ApafMCzc.dpuf

Hammer Film fans across the globe were saddened yesterday by the news that Anthony Hinds had passed away at the grand age of 91.  Hinds is seldom discussed as much as Peter Cushing.  Or Christopher Lee.  Or Terence Fisher.  Or Jimmy Sangster.  Or Jack Asher.  Or Bernard Robinson. But the fact remains, it was Hinds who assembled these gifted men, thus creating “Hammer Horror.” - See more at: http://petercushingblog.blogspot.co.uk/#sthash.ApafMCzc.dpuf

Hammer Film fans across the globe were saddened yesterday by the news that Anthony Hinds had passed away at the grand age of 91.  Hinds is seldom discussed as much as Peter Cushing.  Or Christopher Lee.  Or Terence Fisher.  Or Jimmy Sangster.  Or Jack Asher.  Or Bernard Robinson. But the fact remains, it was Hinds who assembled these gifted men, thus creating “Hammer Horror.” - See more at: http://petercushingblog.blogspot.co.uk/#sthash.ApafMCzc.dpuf

Hammer Film fans across the globe were saddened yesterday by the news that Anthony Hinds had passed away at the grand age of 91.  Hinds is seldom discussed as much as Peter Cushing.  Or Christopher Lee.  Or Terence Fisher.  Or Jimmy Sangster.  Or Jack Asher.  Or Bernard Robinson. But the fact remains, it was Hinds who assembled these gifted men, thus creating “Hammer Horror.” - See more at: http://petercushingblog.blogspot.co.uk/#sthash.ApafMCzc.dpuf

THE REPTILE: HAMMER FILMS : LOBBY CARD SET

CAST:

Ray Barrett (Harry Spalding), Noel Willman (Dr Franklyn), Jennifer Daniel (Valerie Spalding), Jacqueline Pearce (Anna Franklyn), Michael Ripper (Tom Bailey), John Laurie (Mad Peter Crockett), Marne Maitland (Malay)

PRODUCTION:

Director – John Gilling, Screenplay – John Elder [Anthony Hinds], Producer – Anthony Nelson Keys, Photography – Arthur Grant, Music – Don Banks, Music Supervisor – Philip Martell, Special Effects – Bowie Films, Makeup – Roy Ashton, Production Design – Bernard Robinson. Production Company – Hammer/Seven-Arts.

SYNOPSIS:

Harry Spalding, a captain in the Royal Grenadiers, inherits a cottage in a small Cornish village after his brother Charles dies in mysterious circumstances. He moves into the cottage with his wife Valerie. Harry discovers that several locals have been killed by mysterious snake bites. This is also found to have been the cause of Charles’s death. The origin of the snake killings appears to rest with Dr Franklyn who lives in the village mansion. As Harry investigates, he discovers that these are being caused by Franklyn’s daughter Anna who was abducted by a snake cult that Franklyn was researching in Borneo and that she now periodically transforms into a snake creature.

HOLMES AND WATSON: TROY HOWARTH INVESTIGATES CUSHING AND MORELL IN HAMMER FILMS 'THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES'

Following the success of The Curse of Frankenstein and Dracula, Hammer Studios decided to turn their attention to the work of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In keeping with the tone of their recent films, their choice of The Hound of the Baskervilles seemed a solid concept. Certainly it was the most famous of Doyle’s many Sherlock Holmes stories, and it was arguably also the one that was best suited to feature length adaptation. On top of that, it had a macabre component – even if the inevitable intervention of logic would render its supernatural elements easily explained by the master sleuth by the time the film faded to black. The casting of Peter Cushing as Holmes was a given, even if Hammer executive James Carreras’ assertion that he would be the screen’s first “sexy” Holmes remains highly questionable. Had the film been made a few years later, it would not be inconceivable to picture Holmes as being played by Christopher Lee (who would indeed later essay the role several times, beginning with the bizarre West German production Sherlock Holmes and the Deadly Necklace, 1962, directed by Terence Fisher), with Cushing supporting as Dr. Watson. In 1958, however, Lee was only beginning to establish a name for himself, whereas Cushing was more of a proven quantity.

Sensibly realizing that Lee was too young and too imposing to play Holmes’ right hand man and confidante, Dr. John Watson, he was instead given a chance at playing the romantic lead, a bit of casting which Lee openly relished; he would therefore become one of the few actors to lend much in the way of presence and color to the usually disposable role of Sir Henry Baskerville. To play Dr. Watson, Hammer turned to veteran actor Andre Morell. Morell was known as a prickly sort, given to speaking his mind, and he and Lee apparently did not hit it off at all – but neither ever made much of a commentary on this, leading one to suspect that perhaps they were simply too similar in disposition. Happily, no such conflict would come into play with Morell’s relationship with Cushing – they had already acted together in the controversial, Nigel Kneale-scripted adaptation of George Orwell’s 1984 (1954) for the BBC , and following Hound, they would appear in Cash on Demand (1960), Cone of Silence (1960) and She (1964). Sadly, however, this would mark their one and only outing as Holmes and Watson – while Cushing would go on to play the role many more times (always on TV, it should be noted), Morell’s association with the world of Conan Doyle would begin and end on Hound.

The film itself is a problematic one, and this is down more to the screenplay than anything else. While some Hammer fans have praised scenarist Peter Bryan for structuring the film so that it would have some consistency with the “sins of the fathers” motif that was so common in Hammer horror (and in British horror in general, if truth be told), it seems to this writer that his attempts to “Hammerize” the material results in a film that sits unsteadily between two different styles of filmmaking. The more sensational elements feel rather grafted on, while the mystery angle becomes negligible in the bargain. Viewers unacquainted with Conan Doyle’s story might hope to have some sense of surprise when the killer is finally unmasked, but thanks to the heavy handed approach, there’s never any real doubt as to “who done it.” As such, the film fails as a mystery, and while there are token gestures towards the horror crowd, it’s a little too tame and restrained to really work on that level, either.

Director Terence Fisher does manage a tremendous set piece at the beginning, however, as he details the cruelty of Sir Henry’s infamous ancestor, Sir Hugo (David Oxley). Oxley tears into his role with ferocious abandon, teerting on the verge of camp overstatement yet remaining a credible villain. His presence is sorely missed when the film switches to the present day, with Ewen Solon’s sour-faced Stapleton proving to be a dull and rather listless villain. Fisher and cinematographer Jack Asher work hard to create a sense of menace on the moors, but the cramped production values sometimes conspire against their efforts. Hammer’s use of standing sets was beginning to show through at this juncture, though Hammer’s great production designer, Bernard Robinson, certainly does what he can to disguise the subterfuge. With James Bernard’s music booming away, it’s clear that this Hound is meant to be as scary as their previous Dracula and Frankenstein pictures – but it never quite catches fire.

One would be hard pressed to fault Hammer for their casting of Cushing and Morell, however. Cushing’s hawk-like visage and thin frame made him ideal casting, though his average stature is rather unfairly shown up by Fisher on occasion – when playing scenes opposite very tall men like Lee and Francis De Wolff (as the sour-pussed Dr. Mortimer), it would have made better sense to minimize this, but Fisher elects to have the other actors towering over Cushing, who has little choice but to look up at his co-stars when he should be firmly in control of the scene. Cushing’s devotion to the role was absolute, and he added bits of business straight from Conan Doyle, as well as from Sidney Paget’s famed illustrations from the original Strand Magazine publications of the stories. He brings intensity to the role, but he does sometimes rely too much on favored mannerisms. There are moments when his decision to emphasize the character’s theatricality verges on ham acting, but he manages to convey the character’s aloof nature and addiction to cocaine without becoming as over the top as Jeremy Brett would later be in the rightly celebrated Granada TV adaptations of the Conan Doyle canon. It is a performance that compares favorably with Basil Rathbone’s iconic, possibly definitive, portrayal for Fox and Universal in the 1930s and 1940s, but he would arguably grow into the role and play it with greater subtly and effectiveness when he took over the deer stalker from Douglas Wilmer for the BBC television series of the 1960s.

Morell’s challenge was arguably greater, in that the character of Dr. Watson had been reduced to the level of caricature courtesy of Nigel Bruce’s portrayal opposite Basil Rathbone in the afore-mentioned series of films. Make no mistake, Bruce was a charming and engaging performer, and his blustery portrayal had tremendous chemistry opposite Rathbone’s aloof and somewhat acerbic master detective, but it was a portrayal that was far removed from Conan Doyle. In the stories, Watson is really the author’s mouthpiece, and it is he who narrates the action and fills the reader in on the characters and their motivations. Far from being comedy relief, Watson is a solid, dependable medical man with a military background; he may seem “dim” compared to Holmes, but that’s merely because Holmes represents a kind of intellectual ideal. Watson is the everyman, and Morell’s interpretation is faithful to this conception. Morell resists the urge to play up the comedy, though he does have a few moments of subtle humor along the way.

It is, in short, an ideal pairing of two fine actors – and it is this, above anything else, that makes Hammer’s Hound linger in memory. Cushing’s wound up, energetic portrayal contrasts nicely with Morell’s more restrained approach, and the two men clearly have genuine respect and affection for each other. They make a wonderful team, though other vehicles – notably Cash on Demand and 1984 – would play them off as rivals. It’s to be regretted that Hound was something of a flop at the box office, as this killed off a potential series of Cushing/Morell/Hammer Holmes adaptations. Had they had a chance to grow into the roles and establish more audience familiarity, it’s possible that Cushing and Morell would have eclipsed Rathbone and Bruce in the mind of the public. As it stands, however, we only have this one, flawed vehicle to judge them from – and if the film itself has problems, there’s little doubt that the two actors acquitted themselves beautifully and were determined to remain as faithful as possible to Conan Doyle’s original conception. For this reason alone, the Hammer Hound remains an essential entry in the Holmes on film canon. 

Images: Marcus Brooks (PCASUK) 

FEATURE AND GALLERY: 'TRUST ME, I'M A DOCTOR' PETER CUSHING AND VERONICA CARLSON : HAMMER FILMS: FRANKENSTEIN MUST BE DESTROYED (1969)

In 1969, Hammer Films was in a precarious position. The company had long occupied a secure position in the British film industry, with one box office success after another. They had helped to revitalize the public’s interest in Gothic horror, and in the process they helped to make Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee icons of the genre. However, change was in the air - and Hammer simply wasn’t prepared to deal with it. 1968 saw the release of two watershed horror films, each signalling a major shift in the genre as a whole. On the one end of the spectrum, Rosemary’s Baby, directed by Polish expatriate Roman Polanski, showed that horror was no longer the province of B-level filmmaking.

 
At the opposite end, Pittsburgh-based George A. Romero demonstrated what spit, polish, no small amount of technical know-how and sheer determination could do in lieu of adequate resources with Night of the Living Dead. The former demonstrated that it was possible for horror movies to be blockbuster successes, even netting Oscar nominations (and one win) in the process. The latter signalled a new interest in graphic violence. If Hammer previously seemed edgy, they suddenly seemed quaint. Even in the UK, rival company Tigon Productions managed to out-Hammer Hammer with their brutal expose of one of the darkest chapters of British history, in Witchfinder General. Up until that point, Hammer was still espousing the natural superiority of good versus evil; these films rejected quaint moralizing in favor of painting a grimmer portrait of fate and its wrong doings. Hammer held firm in their conviction that audiences were still interested in Dracula and Frankenstein films, however, and while box office receipts would begin to taper off, they managed to deliver a late period return to form with their latest instalments in these respective franchises: Taste the Blood of Dracula and Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed. Of the two, however, only the latter seems genuinely in-tune with the pessimism of the era.

The screenplay by long time assistant director Bert Batt, with some assistance from associate producer Anthony Nelson Keys (as well as some uncredited input by director Terence Fisher), is uncommonly complex, especially in light of Anthony Hinds’ more genteel approach to the subject matter in The Evil of Frankenstein (1964) and Frankenstein Created Woman (1966). Here, the Baron (Cushing) has been reduced to the status of villain - but given the world he inhabits, one is reluctant to fall back on such labels. The hypocrisy of the society at large is exposed at every turn, with the indignant Baron seizing every opportunity to exploit those around him in the effort to find a final validation in his work. After the more overtly fantastical narrative leaps of Frankenstein Created Woman - wherein the Baron is engaged in the transplantation of human souls - he is here “merely” concerned with advanced brain surgery. Looking to pick the brain of a colleague driven to insanity by the derision of his colleagues, the Baron determines to abduct said colleague from the madhouse and transplant his brain into the body of another scientist. In so doing, he hopes to cure the colleague’s insanity - and have concrete, living proof of the validity of their research and years of hard work. Needless to say, it does not go well…

In Hammer’s original “crack” at Mary Shelley’s story, The Curse of Frankenstein, the Baron was presented as a dandy with a sadistic streak - a sort of spoiled child desperate for attention at any cost, and one who is willing to stoop to anything to prove his genius to the world. The character evolved through the ensuing entries, with screenwriter Jimmy Sangster bringing the story to an effective close in the very first sequel, Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), which climaxes with the Baron - whose close brush with the guillotine has made him a kinder, more tolerant individual - literally becoming his own creation. Sangster refused the option to continue writing Frankenstein sequels, and his successor, producer/writer Anthony Hinds, really had nowhere to go - but back to the drawing board. He effectively rebooted the series with Evil of Frankenstein, making the Baron into something of a hero in the process. The trend continued with Frankenstein Created Woman, but things take a far darker turn in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed. Whether by accident or by design, Batt and his collaborators created a take on the character which was far more in tune with Sangster’s, and the end result can certainly be viewed as something of a denouement to the initial saga.

Director Terence Fisher brings his A game to the proceedings. Fisher often referred to this as his favorite of the films he directed, and it’s easy to see why. Despite a few narrative hiccups - more on that in a moment - he displays a customarily sure and steady hand with plot and character development. Fisher’s horror films work because he makes the audience believe in them - they are not overly fantastical or even stylized in nature, and even if the situations the characters are in are outlandish, how they react within them seems totally credible. As a stylist, Fisher tended to be more “prosaic” than some of his contemporaries within the genre, but his decision to foreground emotion and characterization over baroque affect was definitely a conscious one. Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed sees him working from a screenplay he cared passionately about, and he responds with some of the most exquisite and beautifully rendered staging and blocking of his career. Interestingly, the film came at something of a lull in his life and career - he had been denied the opportunity to continue the Dracula series with Dracula Has Risen From the Grave (1968), owing to an alcohol-related traffic accident. After a period of enforced rest and rehabilitation, he clearly attacked Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed with the renewed vigor of an artist with something to say. Sadly, for Fisher, the comeback would prove short-lived - after the release of this film, he found himself in exactly the same position (the story goes that he had a love of playing “chicken” with passing cars while he was drinking; advancing age didn’t improve his speed), and he would only be able to complete one more feature - Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1972) - before spending his remaining years in enforced retirement. He died in 1980. 

The cast assembled is absolutely perfect, and Fisher definitely deserves credit in this as well. Cushing was, of course, the only man to carry the picture - and it can be argued that this was his finest screen performance. The character, as written, is complex and rife with potential - and Cushing exploits every nuance to its full effect. The Baron’s ability to turn on the charm, thus masking his moral deterioration, comes through very strongly, notably during the scene where he puts off a concerned woman with unctuous assurances that her husband is safe and sound - only to close the door and turn into a steely close-up, barking orders to his compatriots that they need to get the hell out of dodge (I’m paraphrasing, but you get the idea). The Baron remains every bit the fastidious dandy conceived in the initial entries, but he has no difficulty resorting the blackmail, murder, even rape (more on that, as well!) to achieve his ends. In order to assist with his venture, he enlists the aid of a pitiable couple played by Simon Ward and Veronica Carlson. 

The recently deceased Ward was apparently hired by Fisher himself, who had seen the young actor in a television play. Ward brings considerably more depth to the role than the usual bland stooge who is duped into assisting the Baron. Carlson was then riding high as Hammer’s new “star discovery,” having already appeared opposite Christopher Lee in Dracula Has Risen From the Grave. In addition to possessing beautiful looks and a killer body, Carlson also had genuine acting ability - she was used more for decorative purposes in Risen, perhaps, but she really comes into her own here. Fisher’s other casting master stroke was Freddie Jones, later to become something of a favorite of iconic “cult” filmmaker David Lynch, who would cast him in The Elephant Man, Dune, and Wild at Heart. Jones, a twitchy, idiosyncratic character actor of the Charles Laughton school, could slice ham with the best of them - but when properly reigned in, as he is here, he was capable of tremendous depth. He plays the Baron’s latest “creature,” and he is arguably the saddest and most heart-rending of them all. 

The narrative proceeds smoothly, but for the intrusion of some rather gratuitous police procedural scenes. These scenes really seem to have no narrative justifcation beyond allowing Fisher favorite Thorley Walters an opportunity to inject some humor into the proceedings. True, this is a very grim film - but the scenes in question do little but restate the obvious; tellingly, the subplot is dropped before the climax

Much has been written about the inclusion of a rape scene, and while it is definitely an uncomfortable sequence, it does not feel like a hasty, last minute addition. Carlson, for her part, has always maintained that it was added in at the behest of Hammer executive Sir James Carreras, who felt the film needed some “sex appeal.” The notion of adding a rape scene for sex appeal is, of course, the epitome of bad taste. Carlson has always pointed to her character’s reactions to the Baron, following the assault, as proof of her argument. Truthfully, her reactions seem entirely in keeping with what has happened, as she reacts with fear and revulsion towards the Baron from that point on. It could be that Carlson simply wasn’t keen on the scene from the start, but it seems unlikely that it was added in so hastily. Not only is the scene appropriately harrowing, but there is nothing leering in how it is staged; there isn’t even any nudity on display, and Hammer was already flirting with adding such material into their films, as evidenced by Taste the Blood of Dracula. While the scene was removed from US prints for a number of years, it is now visible in seemingly every home video release of the film. One can theorize as much as one wants, but to this reviewer the scene seems wholly consistent with the film’s depiction of the Baron - for whom this is an act of cruelty and control, not of lust - and if anybody had a mind to tack it on for the purposes of crass exploitation, it does not come across that way in Fisher’s handling of the material.

In addition to a strong script and stellar performances, the film is graced with excellent production values. By 1970, Hammer’s QC would be on the decline - as evidenced by such bargain basement productions as Scars of Dracula, Lust for a Vampire and The Horror of Frankenstein - but at this stage in the game, they were still able to offer real production gloss. The film marked the final work of Hammer’s great production designer Bernard Robinson, whose abilities to craft a silk purse out of the proverbial sow’s ear was as instrumental as anything in establishing the Hammer aesthetic. He delivers some realistically detailed sets, and the Baron’s makeshift “mad labs” are in keeping with the more grounded approach. James Bernard contributes one of his finest soundtracks, as well. From the pounding opening theme to the final, triumphant strains as all hell breaks loose, he complements the mood and action beautifully. Cinematographer Arthur Grant, normally given to the efficient rather than the inspired, provides some excellent, low key lighting. Together with Fisher’s keen sense of framing and camera movement, the lighting helps to give the film a strong sense of mood and atmosphere.

Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed may not have capped the series altogether, but it is, in a sense, the ultimate “final word” in all things Frankenstein, at least so far as Hammer is concerned. It remains one of the finest films they ever produced - and arguably the apex of their Gothic movement. 

 

HAMMER FILMS: THE CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF: YVONNE ROMAIN AND RICHARD WORDSWORTH

BLACKBOXCLUB: PIN UP NUMBER 46: MARLA LANDI

HAMMER FILMS: DRACULA (1958) RESTORED BLU RAY DOUBLE PLAY: RELEASE MARCH 18TH 2013

DRACULA (1958)
Released on 3-disc Double Play on 18th March 2013.
Hammer, Icon Film Distribution and Lionsgate are proud to present a major event in British film history.

Terence Fisher's 1958 classic Dracula. fully restored in High Definition and available on Blu-ray and DVD for the first time. The release will contain two versions of the feature (seamlessly branched on the Blu-ray): The 2007 BFI restoration plus the 2012 Hammer restoration, which adds additional footage that has been unavailable for decades. The additional footage comprises two of the scenes that were originally censored by the BBFC in 1958 that have now been restored to the film from the “Japanese reels”:

Dracula’s seduction of Mina.
Dracula’s sunlight disintegration.

These will be the most complete versions ever released and taken together fully deserving of the description DEFINITIVE. Dracula has been unavailable on any UK home entertainment format for many years. This release will be at the correct aspect ratio of 1.66:1 which has never been available for home viewing.

Available 18th March in the UK on 3-disc Double Play, the pack comprises 1 x Blu-ray and 2 x DVD, the release also includes brand new featurettes, a new commentary track, multiple bonus extras and a stills show.

Dracula is the first in the series of Hammer films inspired by the Bram Stoker novel Dracula. It was directed by Terence Fisher, and stars Peter Cushing, Michael Gough, Carol Marsh, Melissa Stribling and Christopher Lee.


Dr. Van Helsing, investigating the death of his friend Jonathan Harker, concludes that Harker was the victim of a vampire. When Harker's fiancée, Lucy, becomes affected by the terrifying force and hypnotic power of Count Dracula, Van Helsing releases her tortured soul by driving a stake through her heart. But Dracula seeks revenge, targeting Lucy's beautiful sister-in-law, Mina. Van Helsing, now aided by Mina’s husband Arthur, swears to exorcise this evil forever by confronting the vile and depraved Count himself. Dracula. Technical Information:
Certificate: (TBC).
Region: B/2.
Barcode: 5060223769196.
Catalogue number: LGB95006.
Double Play: 1 x BD & 2 x DVD.
Languages: English.
Dracula © 1958 Clarion Film Productions Ltd. Renewed 1985 by Hammer Film Productions Ltd. © 2011 ICON FILMS, INC. Package Design © 2012 Lionsgate Home Entertainment UK. All Rights Reserved. Distributed by Lionsgate Home Entertainment UK. Dracula.
Released on 3-disc Double Play on 18th March 2013.

Hammer, Icon Film Distribution and Lionsgate are proud to present a major event in British film history.

EXTRAS;
Four Brand-New Featurettes:
"Dracula Reborn". New 30 min. featurette about the film’s creation and history, featuring, among others: Jimmy Sangster, Kim Newman, Mark Gatiss, Jonathan Rigby and Janina Faye (Tania in the film).

"Resurrecting Dracula". New 20 min. featurette about the film’s restoration, from the BFI’s 2007 restoration through to the integration of “lost” footage, featuring interviews with key staff at the BFI, Molinare and Deluxe142. Also covers the February 2012 world premiere of Hammer’s interim restored version including “vox pop” interviews with fans after the event.

"The Demon Lover: Christopher Frayling on Dracula". New 30 min. featurette.

"Censoring Dracula". New 10 min. featurette on the original cuts to the film ordered by the British Board of Film Censors.

Commentary:
New commentary by Hammer historian Marcus Hearn and author & critic Jonathan Rigby.

Plus:

All 4 surviving "Japanese reels" (6 - 9) unrestored (40 mins).

The World Of Hammer episode: Dracula And The Undead.

Janina Faye reading a chapter of Stoker’s novel at the VAULT festival.

Stills Gallery of over 100 fully-restored and rare images.

Booklet by Hammer archivist Robert J. E. Simpson (PDF).

THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN LARGE SCANNED POSTER: HAMMER FILMS (1957)

THE HORROR OF FRANKENSTEIN: FULL COLOR PORTRAIT RALPH BATES BARON FRANKENSTEIN: HAMMER FILM (1970)

RALPH BATES AS BARON FRANKENSTEIN IN HAMMER FILMS 'THE HORROR OF FRANKENSTEIN' 1970

FULL GALLERY AND REVIEW:HERE

HILARY SWANK: HAMMER FILMS BLACKBOXCLUB PIN UP 42

CHRISTOPHER LEE RETURNS : BARBARA SHELLEY : SUZAN FARMER : DRACULA PRINCE OF DARKNESS : KEY STILLS GALLERY AND REVIEW

CAST:

Andrew Keir (Father Shandor), Christopher Lee (Count Dracula), Francis Matthews (Charles Kent), Barbara Shelley (Helen Kent), Suzan Farmer (Diana Kent), Charles Tingwell (Alan Kent), Philip Latham (Klove), Thorley Walters (Ludwig)

PRODUCTION:

Director – Terence Fisher, Screenplay – John Sansom, Story – John Elder [Anthony Hinds], Producer – Anthony Nelson-Keys, Photography – Michael Reed, Music – James Bernard, Music Supervisor – Philip Martell, Special Effects – Bowie Films Ltd, Makeup – Roy Ashton, Production Design – Bernard Robinson. Production Company – Hammer/Seven Arts. UK. 1966.  

SYNOPSYS:

Two English couples holidaying in Transylvania are abandoned on the roadside after their coach breaks down. They are picked up by a driverless black coach and taken to Castle Dracula where they are granted hospitality by Dracula’s manservant. During the night, one of the men is attacked and gutted by Dracula’s manservant and his blood used to revive Dracula. Two of the group manage to flee the castle. In the village below, they join a local priest in standing up to destroy Dracula.

COMMENTARY:

Dracula - Prince of Darkness was the third of Hammer’s Dracula films. Unlike the first sequel The Brides of Dracula (1960), Prince of Darkness brings back Christopher Lee who had refused to return to the series until he had established himself as a serious actor first.

The Brides of Dracula worked well despite the absence of Christopher Lee but Prince of Darkness achieves somewhat less successfully despite Lee’s return. It is a film that never coheres or gets fired up despite a great deal of potential to do so. A large part of the problem is Christopher Lee who, while he returns, gets no dialogue (although Lee claims this was his own choice because the dialogue he was given was so awful). Reduced to merely hissing and dilating his red contact lenses, this has the effect of making Lee much more animalistic – something that Lee conveys most effectively – but the net result is that the central threat in the film is like a tiger in a cage, prowling and roaring, but never getting to pounce.

Certainly, many of the other elements come together well. The opening of the film – warnings to avoid the castle; villagers refusing to acknowledge its existence even though it sits in front of their eyes; travellers abandoned in the middle of nowhere and then the appearance of a mysterious black coaches harnessed to horses that have wills of their own; and the castle, which is conversely shown to be welcoming with dinner laid out and a fire stoked up, even luggage placed in their respective rooms – builds an increasing sense of unease. 

 

This erupts in a shock sequence where Charles Tingwell is stabbed and his body is hoisted upside down over the catafalque containing Dracula’s ashes and the throat slit to spill his blood, which brings the ashes to life. It is a conceptually remarkable sequence – one that created considerable controversy at the time, blasphemous inversions of The Crucifixion being seen in it and all – although today seems tame. 

Thereafter, Dracula - Prince of Darkness becomes more a series of set-pieces, loosely connected by the overall plot of Dracula trying to seduce Suzan Farmer while husband Francis Matthews sets out to rescue her. There are a number of good sequences interspersed throughout – notably the climax where Dracula runs out onto the ice and Andrew Keir shoots into it around him, causing it to crack and Christopher Lee to be swallowed up by the running water (although the sequence is betrayed by cramped sets – the ice-pack being only several yards square. It is a problem shared in other parts of the film too – the castle corridor where most of the skulking takes part is about 20 feet in length and contains only two doors). The film is also happy to swipe the Renfield character out of Bram Stoker – calling him Ludwig – with Thorley Walters giving an amusingly doddery performance in the role.

 

The most remarkable sequence in the film is the scene where Barbara Shelley is held down on a table, hissing and writhing, as a stake is hammered into her heart by the dispassionate priesthood. It is perhaps the most potent image of sexual repression in all of British horror cinema. Indeed, Dracula - Prince of Darkness, more than any of the Hammer Draculas, embodies the recurrent image of sexual repression threatening to emerge to tear Victorian society apart and its dispassionate elimination by men of reason. 

The travellers are deliberately set up as representatives of English genteel in order to be torn apart – the strongest image of this polarity is the turning of the prim, uptight and anxious Barbara Shelley into a voluptuous vampire, begging Francis Matthews “Give us a kiss.” The sexual overtones in the scene where Christopher Lee causes Suzan Farmer to kneel and drink from the cut he opens with his fingernail in his chest are incredibly vivid.

Hammer’s other Dracula films are:– Dracula/The Horror of Dracula (1958), The Brides of Dracula (1960), Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968), Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970), Scars of Dracula (1971), Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972), The Satanic Rites of Dracula/Count Dracula and His Vampire Bride (1973) and The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires/The Seven Brothers Meet Dracula (1974). 

 

Terence Fisher’s other genre films are:– the sf films The Four-Sided Triangle (1953) and Spaceways (1953), The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Dracula/The Horror of Dracula (1958), The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959), The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959), The Mummy (1959), The Stranglers of Bombay (1959), The Brides of Dracula (1960), The Two Faces of Dr Jekyll (1960), The Curse of the Werewolf (1961), The Phantom of the Opera (1962), The Gorgon (1964), Frankenstein Created Woman (1967), The Devil Rides Out/The Devil’s Bride (1968), Frankenstein Must be Destroyed (1969) and Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1973), all for Hammer. Outside of Hammer, Fisher has made the Old Dark House comedy The Horror of It All (1964) and the alien invasion films The Earth Dies Screaming (1964), Island of Terror (1966) and Night of the Big Heat (1967).
 
Review: Richard Schieb
Images: Marcus Brooks