ASSIGNMENT TERROR aka LOS MONSTRUOS DEL TERROR

Tulio Demicheli, 1970

Starring: Paul Naschy, Michael Rennie, Karin Dor

I swear I’m not making up this premise. Aliens intend to take over the world. In order to achieve this, they take the form of dead humans (scientists) and start a traveling circus as a disguise. They revive a series of dead monsters, including a vampire, a mummy, Frankenstein’s monster, and the werewolf Waldemar Daninsky. Hoping to create an army of monsters, they experiment on the monsters and some humans to learn why the monsters are so terrifying. Unfortunately, human emotions begin to influence the aliens’ minds and Daninsky is a more powerful force than they reckoned with.

Los monstruos del terror (literally “the monsters of terror”) is also known as Dracula vs. Frankenstein, though it’s not to be confused with the punishing Al Adamson film of the same name. A mash-up of Plan 9 from Outer Space, House of Dracula, and ‘40s-era Bela Lugosi sci-fi/horror films like The Bat, Assignment Terror is far more exciting on paper than on screen. What could have been a colorful, stylish film is drab and suffers from a low budget and a lousy transfer. Hugo Fregonese (Man in the Attic) and Eberhard Meichsner were uncredited co-directors, yet another example of how much a mess this production was. The overly ambitious script is a bit hard to follow due to all the characters and monsters running around. With that said, if you like House of Dracula, cheesy, fun horror, and are hopelessly devoted to the Universal monsters, this is worth tracking down.

This is the second film where Paul Naschy plays Daninsky (technically the third, but one of the early films was lost). It does have some loose connection to the first, in the sense that the aliens remove a silver bullet from his heart, but the film doesn’t focus on the characters at all. Paul Naschy wrote the film under his birth name, Jacinto Molina, and intentionally gave himself this small role. He doesn’t appear till over half an hour into the film and doesn’t have any dialogue till near the hour mark, so don’t get into this thinking it’s a straightforward entry in the El Hombre Lobo series.

Assignment Terror is essentially a Michael Rennie (The Day the Earth Stood Still) vehicle, though he was apparently very ill during filming. That might explain his wooden, unenthused performance. Lovely German actress Karin Dor (Topaz, You Only Live Twice) is likable as the head female scientist/alien and helps liven up the film a bit with her character’s mix of naiveté and sexual desire.

The sets of this Spanish-German-Italian co-production pale in comparison from Mark of the Werewolf and indeed some shots seem to be recycled from it. The movie looks incredibly cheap, further linking it to something like Plan 9 from Outer Space or The Devil Bat, particularly where the laboratory sets are concerned.

One of the interesting elements is that the aliens are influenced by their human forms, in particular emotions like lust and jealousy. This results in a sexual dalliance on the part of Maleva, the female scientist played by Karin Dor, and Dr. Varnoff (Michael Rennie’s characters) suddenly develops an interest in go-go clubs. He also begins spying on Maleva with the use of hidden cameras and becomes insanely jealous when he witnesses her affair with another scientist. In response, he tortures her with electricity, allegedly because she is succumbing to her human emotions too heavily. The romantic angle is further explored when Daninsky and the gypsy girl fall in love, though this is little more than a plot device establishing that there is someone who can kill Daninsky at the end of the film.

Certainly not among the finest Waldemar Daninsky films, this will delight anyone who loves Z-grade horror and, to be honest, it probably makes a great double feature with Al Adamson’s Dracula vs. Frankenstein. If you like that sort of thing. As far as I know, it isn’t available on region 1 DVD, though you can find it online and there’s a region 2 PAL DVD floating around.

THE MARK OF THE WOLFMAN aka LA MARCA DEL HOMBRE LOBO

Enrique López Eguiluz, 1968

Starring: Paul Naschy, Manuel Manzaneque, Dyanik Zurakowska

In Germany, a young gypsy couple accidentally awaken werewolf Imre Wolfstein when they spend the night in his abandoned, ancestral castle. He begins to terrorize the countryside, though the locals believe real wolves are responsible and organize a hunt. The quiet, isolated Count Waldemar Daninsky manages to kill Wolfstein, but is unfortunately bitten. The young Countess Janice and her friend Rudolph are intrigued by Daninsky and vow to help him. Janice quickly falls in love with him and in desperation, they write to a scientist who has supposedly found a cure for lycanthropy. The son of the doctor arrives along with his seductive wife, but the two turn out to be vampires determined to satanically possess Daninsky with black magic. Rudolph and Janice soon fall under their spell and only Daninsky can save them, but will it be too late?

Written by and starring Jacinto Molina aka Paul Naschy, this Spanish and West German co-production was his first role as Count Waldemar Daninsky, the tragic werewolf. Also known as Mark of the Wolfman, Frankenstein’s Bloody Terror, Hell’s Creatures, and The Nights of Satan, the film has nothing to do with Dr. Frankenstein or his creature, but was retitled in the U.S. as a marketing ploy. Some prints had an animated sequence tacked on to the beginning trying lamely to connect the Frankensteins to the La marca del Hombre Lobo. Apparently it ran as a double feature with Dracula vs. Frankenstein.

The script is cleverer than you would expect from one of Naschy’s first films. Though it begins as a routine reimagining of The Wolf Man – a mysterious, brooding man avoided by the locals is bitten by a werewolf when he hunts and kills it – it takes an interesting turn when the doctor and his wife turn out to be a pair of vampires. Daninsky gets little screen time for the second half of the film, but at least this avoids the kind of sorry moping that plagues The Wolf Man and all Lon Chaney Jr werewolf films. There are moments where the script lags and a lot of the werewolf action is implied or occurs off screen. Naschy is certainly a more menacing and powerful werewolf than Lon Chaney Jr, though his guttural snarling is fairly ridiculous.

I’ve read comparisons of Naschy to Oliver Reed in Hammer’s Curse of the Werewolf. While their performances are similarly physical and manly, Naschy is nowhere near the same league as Reed in terms of acting talent. The script also doesn’t do him any favors; it divulges very little about Daninsky outside of initially portraying him as some sort of Byronic hero. I know I keep using the word “brooding” to describe him, but it’s the most fitting word throughout the entire series and especially in this first film. There is – even more so than Oliver Reed – the sense of repressed sexuality and pent up aggression that makes him a convincing as a gentleman werewolf. In a sense, he has more in common with the titular character in Universal’s Werewolf of London (1935, predating The Wolfman). Dr. Wilfred Glendon (portrayed by Henry Hull) is obsessed with his experiments and neglects his pretty young wife. Though he loves her, he is unable to express virtually any sense of emotion. In this, Daninsky is closer to Glendon than to Lon Chaney Jr’s Larry Talbot.

As for the other actors, Dyanik Zurakowska (Orgy of the Vampires) gives a likable performance as Janice, the sweet young thing who falls in love with Daninsky. Manuel Manzanque is a bit obnoxiously naïve as her friend Rudolph. I always found it a bit strange that Rudolph is so eager to help Daninsky and isn’t jealously resentful. As for the villains, Julian Ugarte (All the Colors of the Dark) is very over the top as Dr. Mikhelov, but gives a pleasingly cheesy performance. Aurora De Alba (Vengeance of the Zombies) matches him perfectly. As soon as the pair appear on screen, it’s obvious that they’re dripping with menace and will soon be up to no good.

Though the locations are limited, they look great and have a nice Gothic feel with a spooky castle, cobweb-drenched crypts, and an elaborate torture chamber. The castle set is allegedly the same monastery used in Tombs of the Blind Dead a few years later. There is plenty of fog, smoke, and candlelight and certain scenes seem inspired by the work of Mario Bava, particularly a handful of eerie red or green-lit rooms in the castle’s dungeon.

Aside from this film, director Enrique López Eguiluz is only known for Santo contra los asesinos de la mafia (1970), an obscure, but well-rated entry in the Santo series. Eguiluz does a solid, if workmanlike job here and obviously borrows from Italian Gothic horror. One of the finest points of the film is the excellent score by Ángel Arteaga, a mixture of more standard, orchestral horror themes, odd jazzy notes, and some creepy, unpredictable sounds.

La marca del Hombre Lobo is not without its flaws. The editing is fairly rough and there are occasional jumps in the story that are a bit mystifying at first. The third act is the most problematic with a series of ongoing chase scenes that go back and forth between characters. It begins to develop a Pink Panther-ish vibe before the somewhat predictable ending, where Daninsky kills the other monsters and his lady love must kill him by shooting him through the heart with a silver bullet. This somewhat interesting premise (a werewolf can only truly be killed by one who loves him) is mostly carried throughout the rest of the series.

Though some of the later El Hombre Lobo films are more popular, I think this is a great place to start for Naschy newbies. It includes most of the themes that would be repeated throughout the series, including tragic love, black magic, miscellaneous monsters (vampires, in this case), some great atmosphere, and the solid presence of the solemn, brooding Naschy turning wolfish against his will at the light of the full moon. The violence and nudity are both pretty thin on the ground, though there is plenty of blood and some mild eroticism when the vampires begin their seduction. Hammer fans will certainly rejoice at The Mark of the Wolfman, as will anyone delighted by stylish Eurohorror. It is available on DVD as Frankenstein’s Bloody Terror, though the title is out of print and a little expensive. You can also find it streaming online, thanks to legions of devoted Naschy fans. 

Paul Naschy and El Hombre Lobo

Jacinto Molina Álvarez (1934-2009) aka Paul Naschy was a Spanish actor, director, and screenwriter. Outside of Jess Franco, he is probably the most well-known and prolific figure associated with Spanish horror cinema. Though he got his start as a professional weightlifter, Naschy rose to prominence with a series of werewolf films based on the character Waldemar Daninsky, a tragic, yet noble man cursed with lycanthropy. Naschy starred in all of these films and wrote many of them. Throughout the series – known as El Hombre Lobo (literally The Wolf Man) – he is pitted against a series of foes from female vampire countesses to the yeti, and is the object a desire for both village women and aristocrats. Naschy created the character based on his love of Universal’s horror films, particularly The Wolf Man and their later monster mash-up movies, such as Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman. It is important to keep in mind that the El Hombre Lobo films are not consequential and, outside of a shared title character, have little to do with one another.  

Though he holds the record for acting as a werewolf the most number of times (eat dust, Lon Chaney Jr.), Naschy didn’t only appear as Waldemar Daninsky. He took on a number of horror-related roles, including the Mummy, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, Dracula, other werewolves, zombies, Fu Manchu, and even Frankenstein’s Monster, effectively recreating Universal’s golden age of horror in ‘60s and ‘70s Spain. He also starred in satanic horror, like Inquisition, which he directed, and Spanish attempts at the giallo, such as Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll with Leon Klimovsky, the director he collaborated with the most.

Las noches del Hombre Lobo (1968) aka Nights of the Wolf Man or Nights of the Werewolf – Naschy’s first werewolf movie is considered lost; director Rene Govar passed away before it was completed and it was never finished or released.

La marca del Hombre-lobo (1968) aka The Mark of the Wolfman, The Werewolf's Mark, The Vampire Of Dr. Dracula, or Frankenstein's Bloody Terror – This is the first Waldemar Daninsky film and sets the tone for those to follow. After the brooding Daninsky is turned into a werewolf, he is victimized by two vampires.

Los monstruos del terror (1970) aka Dracula vs. Frankenstein, Assignment Terror, Operation Terror – Waldemar Daninsky faces off against a variety of creatures, including vampires, mummies, and even aliens.

La noche de Walpurgis (1971) Werewolf vs. the Vampire Women, Werewolf Shadow, Shadow of the Werewolf, Blood Moon – In the third and one of the best entries, Daninsky fights an old, powerful vampire countess.

La furia del Hombre Lobo (1972) aka The Fury of the Wolfman or The Wolfman Never Sleeps – Naschy’s fourth film involves his revival at the hands of a professor hoping to use him for some diabolical experiments. 

Dr. Jekyll y el Hombre Lobo (1972) aka Dr. Jekyll and the Werewolf, Dr. Jekyll vs. the Wolf Man – Daninsky seeks to cure his lycanthropy with the help of Dr. Jekyll’s grandson.  El retorno de Walpurgis (1973) aka Curse of the Devil, The Return of Walpurgis, or The Black Harvest of Countess Dracula – In this sixth entry, Daninsky is cursed by a malevolent witch.

La maldición de la bestia (1975) aka Night of the Howling Beast, Hall of the Mountain King, Horror of the Werewolf, or The Werewolf and the Yeti – Here Daninsky travels to the Himalayas and faces off against sex-demons and other unsavory creatures, such as – you guessed it – a yeti.El retorno del Hombre Lobo (1980) aka The Craving, Return of the Wolf Man, Night of the Werewolf – In this more difficult to find eighth film, Daninsky must face off against black magic and an evil countess. This was allegedly his favorite Daninsky film.

La bestia y la espada mágica (1983) aka The Beast and the Magic Sword – Daninsky turns his attention to Japanese history and mythology, particularly legends of the samurai.
Licántropo: El asesino de la luna llena (1996) aka Lycantropus: The Moonlight Murders – Naschy returned to the role of Daninsky after more than a decade. Here the aging werewolf is still trying to find a cure for his furry curse.

Tomb of the Werewolf (2003) – In Naschy’s twelfth and final Daninsky film, he partnered with cult director Fred Olen Ray.

Other notable genre mentions:

Jack el destripador de Londres (1971) aka Seven Murders for Scotland Yard – This giallo directed by Jose Luis Madrid pits Jack the Ripper against Scotland Yard.

El espanto surge de la tumba (1972) aka Horror Rises from the Tomb – Naschy’s second reoccurring character, the evil warlock Alaric de Marnac (based on occult-obsesses serial killer Gilles de Rais), first appeared here.

El gran amor de Conde Dracula (1972) aka Count Dracula’s Great Love, Cemetery Girls, or Dracula’s Virgin Lovers – Here Naschy stars as Dracula preying upon women staying the night in his seemingly abandoned castle.

El jorobado de la morgue (1972) aka The Hunchback of the Morgue – Naschy stars as the titular Hunchback in one of his most well-regarded horror films.

La rebellion de las muertas (1972) aka The Rebellion of the Dead or Vengeance of the Zombies – In this strange zombie film, Naschy stars as a mystic who raises women from the dead and has them act out his vengeance

Los ojos azules de la muneca rota (1973) aka Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll or House of the Psychotic Women – An interesting giallo where Naschy is hired as the gardener for a house of disturbed sisters.

La venganza de la Momia (1973) aka The Mummy’s Revenge or Revenge of the Mummy – Naschy’s turn as the moldy priest Imhotep is a remake of Karl Freund’s beloved Universal film.

Una libelula para cada muerto (1973) aka A Dragonfly for Each Corpse aka The Vigilante Challenges the Police – In this giallo, a vigilante killer is attacking the streets of Milan. Naschy stars as the detective trying to stop him.

Exorcismo (1974) aka The Nights of Satan or Night of the Exorcist – Another riff on The Exorcist, though Naschy claimed to have written it before William Friedkin’s classic was released.

Inquisicion (1976) aka Inquisition – This satanic horror tale about a medieval witch hunter was the first film Naschy directed; he also starred.

Ultimo Deseo (1977) aka The People Who Own the Dark – This bizarre apocalyptic story concerns a group of libertines and Sade worshippers who are trapped in an old castle when an atomic blast goes off nearby, blinding the locals and driving them mad.  

El aullido del diablo (1987) aka Howl of the Devil – Another later, more obscure entry, where Naschy plays a series of roles, including a werewolf, and other horror icons such as Howard Vernon and Caroline Munro appear.

Um lobisomem na Amazonia (2005) aka A Werewolf in Amazonia – Naschy’s last werewolf film (not as Daninsky) is a Brazilian take on The Island of Dr. Moreau.

Naschy died of cancer in 2009, but left behind an impressive body of work and an autobiography – Memoirs of a Wolfman – chronicling his experiences in genre filmmaking. Visit this excellent tribute site to learn more or check out the lengthy biography on (re)Search my Trash. Muchas Gracias, Senor Lobo, a heavily illustrated German book about Naschy, is also worth hunting down.

I plan to review most of the films mentioned above, though not all – some of them are still not dubbed in English or available in the U.S. I'm also covering most of the El Hombre Lobo series and a handful of Naschy’s other horror films as part of my lengthy series on important ‘70s horror. Viva Naschy!

THE HOUSE THAT SCREAMED aka LA RESIDENCIA

Narciso Ibáñez Serrador, 1969

Starring: Lilli Palmer, Cristina Galbó, John Moulder-Brown, Mary Maude

Madame Fourneau is the demanding headmistress at a 19^th century boarding school for girls who are troubled or have difficult home lives. She teaches them basic skills – sewing, cooking, manners, gardening, and more – but also dishes out some extreme punishments with the help of a student, Irene. Fourneau’s shy, teenage son Luis, who also lives at the school, is warned to stay away from the girls because he mother believes that none of them are good enough for him. Ignoring his mother’s rules, he begins meeting in private with some of the girls and spies on them throughout the day. A new girl, Teresa, arrives and learns that some of the girls have gone missing – presumably they have run away. She will soon learn that the girls have been murdered and hidden somewhere within the boarding school…

Directed by Narciso Ibáñez Serrador, also responsible for a Spanish horror anthonology TV show and the cult favorite Who Could Kill a Child?, he also wrote this film (based on a story by Juan Tébar) and it was his first in the horror genre. It contains several firsts for Spanish cinema: it was the first to be shot in English, hoping to target an international market, and the first to feature a slow-motion close-up of a murder. Though it was distributed in the U.S. by American International Pictures, it failed in the box office and took years to get cult recognition.

While La residencia was technically made in 1969, I am still including it in my ‘70s horror series, because it kicked off a wave of successful and influential Spanish horror film. Beginning under the fascist yoke of Francisco Franco, who didn’t die until 1975 and exacted some severe censorship, Spain produced some of the most antiauthoritarian, surreal, and rebellious horror of the ‘70s. La residencia is clearly an important piece of this puzzle and it would have been a shame not to include it.

Also known as The Boarding School, The Finish School, and House of Evil, La residencia is full of wonderfully creepy atmosphere, which is bolstered by the period setting. Stylish and lovely, La residencia seems to take some inspiration from the old dark house films of the ‘30s. Emphasis is place on the school’s dark corners and Gothic architecture, secret peep holes, candlelight, etc. Though the murders aren’t gory, they are very well shot and provide a number of interesting set pieces. There are elements of the giallo film present, as well as a women-in-prison exploitation feel due to the fact that the girls are lorded over by the sadistic headmistresses and are confined to some very close quarters. Coincidentally, the first official women-in-prison film, Jess Franco’s 99 Women, was released the same year.

The main female leads do an excellent job, particularly Lili Palmer (The Boys from Brazil) as the domineering headmistress. Mary Maude is also excellent as her second in command, Irene. It’s a shame the actress didn’t go on to have a more developed career in genre cinema, like the rest of the main cast. Cristina Galbó (Let Sleeping Corpses Lie, What Have They Done to Solange) loosely the protagonist, is likable and charismatic. There are some strong supporting performances, such as from John Moulder-Brown (Vampire Circus) in the only male lead role and the lovely Maribel Martin (The Blood Spattered Bride).

Don’t expect too much from La residencia – it is conservative compared to films made just a little later and there is barely any nudity or violence. Regardless, the film made some daring steps at a time when censorship was at an all-time high. There are themes of dominance and submission, lesbianism, repressed sexuality, and serial murder. There’s an S&M punishment angle here, which is expressed in a scene where a young girl is forced to strip naked and be whipped. More shockingly, particularly for the time, there is also an incest angle. Forneau is obsessed with the idea that there is no one good enough for her beloved soon and that he needs someone more like her.

La residencia also feels a little like an early giallo or even a slasher, as the murdered girls disappear and no one knows to look for them (this theme would also reappear in Argento’s Suspiria). Voyeurism is of key importance; only the audience knows of the murders, though other characters also constantly watch each other for signs of weakness, misbehavior, or seduction. Madame Forneau keeps the showers communal and never shirks her duty of “supervising” the girls as they bathe.

The film’s major issue is that it is very dialogue heavy and there are a number of talkie scenes between the schoolgirls. There is no central lead – she appears halfway through the film – and there is too much shifting between central characters. Though this is used as somewhat of a red herring, it is unclear with whom we should feel sympathy.

In later Spanish horror throughout the ‘70s, there’s an undeniable sense of being thrown off balance by the plot, something La residencia exercises in spades. This is further emphasized by a surprising ending that went on to influence future Spanish horror, particularly the great Pieces. Though somewhat difficult to get ahold of, you can find La residencia on an import DVD or floating around online. A mix of mystery, giallo, psychological thriller, old dark house movie, and women-in-prison film, La residencia is not for everyone, but will greatly please fans of classic and Spanish horror and comes recommended. 

DON'T LOOK NOW

Nicolas Roeg, 1973

Starring: Julie Christie, Donald Sutherland

After their beloved young daughter accidentally drowns to death, John and his wife Laura retreat to Venice.  John has been hired for a church restoration project and he and Laura attempt to process their profound grief. Two sisters, the blind Heather and Wendy, convince Laura that Heather is psychic and can see their daughter; she is happy in the afterlife. She also warns Laura that John is in danger and should leave Venice. At first John is enraged by what he thinks is his wife’s stubborn delusion, but begins to see a small figure clad in a red raincoat – the same thing his daughter wore when she died – running around Venice. Meanwhile, bodies are turning up around the city, dumped in the canal.

Their son has an accident back at his boarding school in England and Laura briefly sets off, though John is convinced he later sees her on a funeral barge in the canals. In a panic and fearing for her mental health, he searches for Laura and the two women. The police come to suspect he may be the killer and he again spies the figure clad in a red raincoat running through the streets. It turns out that Laura was in England all along and is soon on her way back, as their son is fine. After briefly meeting up with the two sisters, John escorts them back to their hotel, but spies the red-cloaked figure one last time. He is unable to avoid following it into the night, though Heather is convinced something terrible is about to happen to him…

This British and Italian co-production was director Nicolas Roeg’s third film after the acclaimed Performance, a crime drama starring Mick Jagger, and Walkabout, a desolate tale of two siblings stranded in the Outback. Though Don’t Look Now is generally taken as a horror film, it’s a bit more slippery with elements of drama and melancholy throughout. Regardless, death haunts nearly every scene and, more than anything else, this is a movie about two people’s attempts to deal with loss and grief.

The script was adapted from a short story of the same name by Daphne du Maurier, who supposedly wrote it while suffering from the grief of ending a romantic relationship. Du Maurier rose to international renown when Alfred Hitchcock adapted two of her novels – Rebecca and The Birds – and Don’t Look Now certainly has a Hitchcockian feel. John’s character has shades of the “wrong man” trope that Hitchcock was so fond of, particularly when Venetian authorities begin to believe he’s responsible for the local murders. Another Hitchcockian aspect of the film is the constant sense of seeing incorrectly, mistaken identities, and visual misunderstandings. Doubles are also everywhere, for John, his wife, and their daughter, in drawings, photographs, reflections, visions, and in physical doubles.

There are some unnerving scenes of suspense and horror – particularly surrounding the mysterious figure in the red coat – and an underlying occult theme. It’s giallo-like, despite the lack of graphic murders, and reminded me of Italian films Who Saw Her Die? and Fulci’s The Psychic. Aldo Lado’s Who Saw Her Die? concerns a sculptor and his beautiful wife whose daughter (she has bright red hair instead of a red coat) is the victim of a killer loose in the city. Central to the mystery is a priest and a woman wearing a funeral veil. Also set in Venice, this film came out a year before Don’t Look Now and seems somewhat of an obvious influence, though Don’t Look Now is the superior film. Fulci’s The Psychic (1977) has a similar gray tone with brief splashes of color and concerns the occult, psychic premonitions, and the unshakable sense that something terrible is going to happen to the film’s protagonist.

The film benefits from strange, dreamlike editing and use of reoccurring imagery. The editing gives viewers the sense that there is no real, solid separation between past, present, and future. The reoccurring imagery – mostly of water, the color red, and shots of broken glass – are relentless and unsettling. Red, first solely to represent the dead daughter’s raincoat, seeps its way into the film little by little. There are some incredibly shots of Venice from cinematographer Anthony B. Richmond. The set is eerily quiet and devoid of people; everything is washed over with a rainy, foggy, gray tone. Venice’s winding streets and canals feel labyrinthine and prison-like at times.

Venice is the perfect setting; their daughter’s death by drowning is emphasized by constant visual references to water. In the “City of Love,” as it is known, and the city of canals, the references to their child’s death and, conversely, to romantic love, is inescapable. Roeg continues this throughout the film, alternating references to desire and sex, loss and death. Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie give two of their best on screen performances here, perfectly conveying a realistic marriage. Their sex scene, which made the film infamous for years, is graphic, but never exploitative. There is a sex where John performs oral sex on his wife – then unheard of in mainstream cinema and barely represented today – and the sex scene was long rumored to be real, unsimulated sex between Sutherland and Christie.

The blend of ghosts, death, horror, and eroticism is subtle and effective. There is undeniably something unsettling about the film, a feeling of wrongness that you can’t quite put your finger on. The surprise ending may rub some viewers the wrong way and this is certainly a film that deserves repeat viewings. On one hand, it can be viewed as Roeg slamming together two storylines – John and Laura’s grief with the serial killer loose in Venice – which does feel jarring and implausible. On the other hand, this is too dreamlike a film to take such things literally and instead it feels like John’s final nightmare, the culmination of his emotional life since the death of his daughter.

Don’t Look Now is available on DVD and comes with the highest possible recommendation. Whether or not you are a fan of horror, the film is a must-see and ranks as one of Roeg’s best works. It is especially worth seeing for fans of Lars von Trier’s Antichrist, as there are many obvious similarities between the two films, or anyone interested in cinematic examinations of grief and loss, as it is surely one of the finest. 

WHOEVER SLEW AUNTIE ROO?

Curtis Harrington, 1971

Starring: Shelley Winters, Mark Lester, Chloe Franks, Ralph Richardson, Lionel Jeffries

A wealthy widow, Mrs. Forrest, holds a Christmas party every year for children at a local orphanage. She showers them with presents, treats, and a feast and, for all appearances, is kind and loving. But Mrs. Forrest has a dark secret — her daughter, Katherine, is dead, though Mrs. Forrest, who prefers to be called Auntie Roo, sings to her every night and believes her spirit is still living. She hires a fake psychic who holds regular seances to allow Mrs. Forrest to communicate with Katherine; really, the servants help him continue this ruse with knocking and voice from the other room. 

An orphaned brother and sister, Christopher and Kathy, are not permitted to go to the Christmas party because of Christopher’s behavior, so they sneak in. Mrs. Forrest welcomes them with open arms, particularly because Kathy resembles her dead daughter so closely. During the party, Kathy goes missing, though Christopher knows that Mrs. Forrest is holding her captive. When no one will believe him, Christopher sneaks back to her house, determined to free Kathy, because he is convinced Mrs. Forrest is a witch who is going to fatten them up and eat them. 

Whoever Slew Auntie Roo is part of the “psycho-biddy” horror subgenre along with other films like What Ever Happened to Baby Jane, Hush… Hush Sweet Charlotte, What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice, and What’s the Matter with Helen (also starring Shelley Winters). Hammer director/scribe Jimmy Sangster co-wrote the script. Somewhat like the Christmas segment of anthology film Tales from the Crypt, there is a nice Christmas backdrop that gives the film more visual appeal and an enhances the fantasy aspect. Sangster and his co-writers based this on “Hansel and Gretel,” emphasizing this connection with voice-over narration of lines from the story.

Director Curtis Harrington has an interesting horror history. He began under Roger Corman and made Night Tide with Dennis Hopper — the tale of whether a melancholy woman is a mermaid or not — and went on to make Queen of Blood. He and Shelley Winters made two back to back horror films, Whoever Slew Auntie Roo? and the similarly themed, if slightly inferior What’s the Matter with Helen?

Shelley Winters is both over the top and terrifying and keeps the film from descending into boredom. She’s incredibly hammy — almost akin to a female Vincent Price in her two films with Harrington and Jaws’ rip-off Tentacles — but is convincingly able to portray madness and sheer dementedness. She also has a dance number where she attempts to reenact her glory days a performer and another great scenes where she hacks her way out of the kitchen pantry with a meat cleaver. The two children — Mark Lester (Oliver) and and Chloe Franks (The House That Dripped Blood, Tales from the Crypt) — also give good performances, particularly Lester as Christopher. There are also a number of good performances from other adult actors, including Ralph Richardson (Tales from the Crypt), Lionel Jeffries (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang), Michael Gothard (The Devils), and the always enjoyable Hugh Griffith (How to Steal a Million, Kind Hearts and Coronets, The Abominable Dr. Phibes).

There is some lovely production design and a lot of nice, fairytale qualities, but I think Harrington could have emphasized these elements a lot further (his first film, Night Tide, certainly does). Instead of wondering whether or not Auntie Roo is a witch, we know she is a lonely, deluded old woman desperate for a child to love. Her obsession with her fantasy life — that her daughter is still alive — consumes her, just as Christopher’s obsession with a world of witches and the occult transfixes him. There are strange parallels between the two. Both have suffered loss, the death of a family members, and both are determined to believe in the supernatural world. It’s a shame that more couldn’t be done with these two characters and their shared fantasy worlds. One of the film’s strongest elements is its ambiguity. It is unclear whether Auntie Roo is really evil or not. Christopher is certainly a menace and his obvious delight at the fire at the film’s conclusion is troubling. 

There’s plenty of black comedy in this British film from a subset of American International Pictures, who were producing a number of horror films in the early ‘70s, several of which with Vincent Price. It comes recommended to fans of these AIP films and will delight anyone who likes demented fairytales. Whoever Slew Auntie Roo? is available on a double-feature DVD from Midnite Movies along with What’s the Matter with Helen?

THE MAN WHO HAUNTED HIMSELF

Basil Dearden, 1970

Starring: Roger Moore, Hildegarde Neil, Kevork Malikyan, Thorley Walters

A respectable, middle class business man, Harold Pelham, has a strange episode where he sheds his normally reserved, repressed personality and drives maniacally down the highway and gets in an accident. He nearly dies and when doctors re-start his heart, they oddly hear two heart beats. Thinking it is just a technological malfunction, they send Pelham on his way to recover at home with his wife, Eve, and their two children. But Pelham’s life takes a turn for the weird. Friends claim to have seen him when he wasn’t around, there’s some kind of security leak at his office that points back to him, and soon an attractive woman he only glimpsed once tells him they are having an affair. Becoming increasingly paranoid, Pelham is desperate to get to the root of these strange and frustrating events, which are increasing every day. 

Based on Anthony Armstrong’s novel The Strange Case of Mr. Pelham, this was director Basil Dearden’s final film and among Roger Moore’s first major starring roles. Though he rose to fame with television show The Saint and the world knows him as James Bond, his appearance in The Man Who Haunted Himself is largely ignored or forgotten. It’s a shame, because it’s a worthy performance in a mediocre, if entertaining film. 

Moore plays against type as a rigidly straight-laced London businessman. His employees joke that his daily schedule and habits run like clockwork and his almost equally repressed wife is desperate for sex. Basil Dearden wisely follows Moore throughout the film and only offers glimpses of his nemesis towards the conclusion. Is he the victim of a menacing conspiracy theory? Or is he just losing his mind? As his neurosis intensifies, Dearden and Moore keep us guessing. Though it is fairly obvious that this is a doppelgänger tale, it’s never really clear which direction the film is going to go in until the conclusion.

Skip to the next paragraph if you’d like to avoid spoilers.

Though there are some obvious Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde influences, the second Pelham actually doesn’t do anything very Hyde-like. He gets a better business deal for his company, though through slightly unethical means, has an affair and apparently treats his mistress very kindly, treats his wife well and works actively to improve their relationship, etc. He is simply more social, more aware of the needs of those around him, and a real devil on the pool table. I choose to see this as a joke on the restrained British nature of the first Pelham, which seeps into the world of the film itself.

There’s not an overabundance of action, but there is plenty of ‘70s style, some lovely shots of London, and an awkward pink tie that happens at the end of the film. It’s a shame that the script wasn’t up to Moore’s acting abilities, though he is nearly able to save the film and make it worth watching. The delightful Freddie Jones (Dune, The Elephant Man) is great as a kooky psychiatrist and Hildegard Neil (Antony and Cleopatra) is lovely as Pelham’s frustrated wife. Hammer horror regular and character actor Thorley Walters (Vampire Circus) also puts in a good appearance as a friend Pelham first believes has organized an elaborate practical joke. 

Basil Dearden (Dead of Night) is careful to build tension and suspense and the fault here is entirely with the script. Filmed once before for Alfred Hitchcock Presents, this would really better serve a short film or television episode and the padding is clear. The tacked on side plots about Pelham’s relationship with his wife, his mistress, his colleagues, and business partners are all introduced, but none are fully developed.

There’s a strange obsession with Moore’s clothing, including scenes of him taking on and off his socks, a focus on his staid ties and suits, and a later vivid attempt to break free of his middle class chains. The second Pelham – gasp – wears a sweater occasionally instead of a suit and tie and even dons speedos in one scene. Racy.

Films about the double have been used to great effect in horror, including Louis Malle’s adaptation of Poe’s William Wilson, Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt, Strangers on a Train, Vertigo, and many others. A blend of thriller and horror film, The Man Who Haunted Himself never quite goes far enough. There’s a brilliant shot where Moore confronts Moore, all while one of the two is reflected in a full length mirror and they circle around each other. It’s a clever scene and it’s a shame this kind of Hitchcockian technical pizzazz wasn’t used throughout.

If you’re a fan of Roger Moore and you haven’t seen this, you’ll definitely want to check it out. It’s available on DVD and apparently on a nice-looking Blu-ray in the U.K. One of the most hilarious moments involves Moore making a James Bond joke. While watching the film, I assumed this was just after Live and Let Die (1973); turns out it was three years before and his solid acting in The Man Who Haunted Himself contributed to his being chosen for the iconic Bond role. Moore has said this was his favorite role and he definitely gave a worthwhile performance.