16th century England: a
pirate ship fighting with the Spanish Armada is damaged and needs to dock for
repairs. The devious Captain Robeles
convinces the gullible villagers that the English have been defeated and that
they must acquiesce to their new leaders …
The clever script by Jimmy Sangster
offers a reversal of a similar plot device found in Hammer’s earlier war film,
The Camp of Blood Island. Whereas the
earlier film dealt with a group of POWs trying to prevent their Japanese
captors from discovering that the Allies have won the war in order to prevent
being wiped out in retaliation, here the pirates trade on the villagers being
cut off from society by telling them that they have won the battle and are
therefore now in charge. As usual for
Sangster, there isn’t a tremendous amount of depth to the characters, but they
serve their function effectively enough as archetypes. Robles is a properly dastardly villain, while
village lad Harry fulfills the role of hero with a rebellious streak.
The film benefits from solid
production values and expert direction from Don Sharp. Sharp was well known for his ability to stage
action scenes and this is certainly evident here. He also makes excellent use of the widescreen
frame and the lighting by the gifted Michael Reed helps to sell the illusion of
this being a bigger film than it really was.
Bernard Robinson’s sets and the art direction by Don Mingaye is up to
their normal standards of excellence, too, though Gary Hughes score feels a bit
limp and generic.
Like so many Hammer films, the film
succeeds in large part due to the quality of its acting. Christopher Lee is every bit as impressive
here as he was in The Pirates of Blood River.
Robeles is comparatively suave and fiery, befitting both the actor and
the character’s Latin disposition. Lee
effortlessly dominates the film, throwing away sinister bon mots of dialogue
without resorting to melodramatic overstatement. He also gets plenty of opportunities to show
off his facility with sword fighting.
The supporting cast includes good roles for such reliable character
actors as Andrew Keir, Philip Latham, Duncan Lamont and Michael Ripper.
Ripper may not be the most ideal casting for a
Spanish pirate imaginable, but he and Lee have great chemistry and he makes for
an endearingly impish presence. Keir’s
role isn’t nearly as memorable as his character in Blood River,
but he brings considerable presence to it, just the same, while Latham proves
to be as effective in aympathetic role as he would be in a more sinister
context as Lee’s faithful servant, Klove, in Dracula Prince of Darkness
(1965).
The hero is played by John
Cairney, but he can’t hope to compete with Lee in terms of presence and
charisma. More interesting is Barry
Warren, fresh off of playing a memorably arch vampire in Sharp’s The Kiss of
the Vampire (1963), who brings a dash of sympathy to his role as the Spanish
nobleman who crosses swords (literally and figuratively) with the despotic
Robeles.
The female side is represented
by Suzan Farmer, as the village girl that Robeles sets his lecherous sights on,
and a young Natasha Pyne, who is memorable as Harry’s spunky sister, Jane. Farmer, of course, would be reunited with Lee
on Dracula Prince of Darkness and Rasputin the Mad Monk (1966), while Pyne
would go on to co-star with Vincent Price, Peter Cushing and Robert Quarry in
the Amicus/AIP hodgepodge Madhouse
(1972).
The Devil-Ship Pirates did solid
business but Hammer would move away from films of this sort, perhaps because
they required a little more production value than their usual stage bound
Gothic horrors. Part of the decision may
have stemmed from the fact that Hammer constructed a mock up ship for the film
which proved to be problematic, to say the least. The money spent is all on screen, however,
ensuring that the film holds up as a fun slice of Saturday matinee
entertainment.
Written by Troy Howarth
Images and Design: Marcus Brooks
