Friday 6 April 2012

PETER CUSHING: THE DAILY WALK...


Peter Cushing looks out to sea from his favourite spot on the harbour at his home town of WHITSTABLE, Kent, England. This was a walk he did most days, come rain or shine.. (circa 1990)

Thursday 5 April 2012

Tuesday 3 April 2012

PETER CUSHING: 'AND NOW THE SCREAMING STARTS! ..' DVD REVIEW AND LOBBY GALLERY




CAST:
Stephanie Beacham (Catherine Fengriffen), Peter Cushing (Dr Pope), Ian Ogilvy (Charles Fengriffen), Geoffrey Whitehead (Silas), Herbert Lom (Sir Henry Fengriffen), Patrick Magee (Dr Whittle), Rosalie Crutchley (Mrs Luke), Janet Key (Bridget), Guy Rolfe (Lawyer Maitland), Sally Harrison (Sarah)

PRODUCTION:
Director – Roy Ward Baker, Screenplay – Roger Marshall, Based on the Novel Fengriffen by David Case, Producers – Max J. Rosenberg & Milton Subotsky, Photography – Denys Coop, Music – Douglas Gamley, Art Direction – Tony Curtis. Production Company – Harbor Productions Inc/Amicus.




--And Now The Screaming Starts! (1973) is a brooding, not very successful attempt by Amicus Productions to break away from its successful horror anthologies, essentially short stories with contemporary settings, with a feature-length period horror film more along the lines of those commonly made by Hammer. Though interesting in some respects, the final product is like an anemic Rebecca meets The Hound of the Baskervilles, with a second act pilfered from Rosemary's Baby.


In 1795 England, Catherine (Stephanie Beacham) has just married Charles Fengriffen (Ian Ogilvy) and moved onto the family's massive estate. Almost at once however, Catherine has strange, horrifying visions. A bloody arm bursts through a portrait of Charles's grandfather, Henry (Herbert Lom, seen in a brief flashback); a disembodied hand (played by a rubber prop with a motor in it) scurries about the floor; a man with his eyes plucked out repeatedly appears outside various windows; and in bed Catherine is nearly strangled to death by a shadowy figure missing one of his hands.



It quickly becomes clear that Charles is withholding from Catherine a dark family secret, almost literally a skeleton in the Fengriffen closet. With family physician Dr. Whittle (Patrick Magee) stymied from revealing the dark secret (why?), Van Helsing-esque, Sherlock Holmesian Dr. Pope (Peter Cushing) is called to the case.

The biggest problem with --And Now The Screaming Starts! (and yes, that's how the title appears onscreen) is that it's so determined to rush headlong into its scenes of horror that it never takes the time to give its audience any background on who its main characters are or why we should care about them. We know nothing about Catherine and Charles's backstory and, as far as the film is concerned, their short-lived newlywed bliss lasts all of 30 seconds before the horror commences. After that, the two characters aren't even in the same room most of the time. Partly this may have been an effort to dramatize the more formal structure of 18th century married life among the privileged class, but their curious lack of scenes together only comes off like screenwriter Roger Marshall (adapting David Case's novel) was simply trying to put off an inevitable confrontation as long as possible. It's also possible that a more sexually complex adaptation had been conceived but dropped. More on this shortly.



Instead, the film parades one series of strange-goings-on and other horror set pieces after another but without compelling characters to hang them on they just don't make much of an impact (though the bit with the arm bursting through the painting is pretty effective. Conversely, the disembodied hand looks pretty phony; the filmmakers would have been wise to study The Beast with Five Fingers for ways around such technical limitations.)
 
The film also eschews any suggestion that Catherine's horrific visions may be entirely in her mind; it's bluntly clear, certainly after people start dropping dead left and right, that something is going on, but this only serves to deflate the suspense even further. The film had great potential with aspects of Catherine and Charles's sexual relationship hinted at yet never actually explored, such as Charles' odd absence from Catherine's bed on their wedding night. But the film isn't being subtle: it's merely avoiding the obvious, aspects of the story that presumably appeared in the novel but which were deleted for the screenplay.




Also undermining the horror is the film's flat, even lighting of the elaborate, two-story set used for interiors of the Fengriffen mansion. (Exteriors of the estate were shot on the familiar grounds of Oakley Court, seen in numerous Hammer films.) Apparently the filmmakers opted to build this set for logistical reasons rather than shoot in a real mansion, but this was probably a mistake. Though quite extravagant by Amicus standards, it never looks like anything other than a set, and everyone is so obviously proud of the damn thing that the camera constantly pans and dollies lovingly over every square foot, making sure audiences appreciate how expensive it was.

The film is only fitfully effective. Far more evocative than the mansion interiors is art director Tony Curtis's (not the Hollywood actor) fenced-in, neglected family graveyard, the site of one particularly gruesome bit of horror intact on this DVD but originally cut when the film was first released in America.




Beacham is fine in a difficult role, and though Peter Cushing's part is little more than a variation of two of his best-loved characters (see above), he's still very effective and livens up what might have been an excruciating second act. Though top-billed, Cushing doesn't appear until the film is half over, and second- and third-billed Lom and Magee have small roles. It's really Beacham's film all the way. The good supporting cast includes Mr. Sardonicus himself, Guy Rolfe, and The Haunting's Rosalie Crutchley.

VISUAL AND AUDIO: 
Dark Sky's DVD of --And Now The Screaming Starts! is an excellent 16:9 enhanced, region-free transfer that approximates the original widescreen aspect ratio, here presented at 1.77:1. Originally printed by Technicolor, the hues are accurate and the image sharp and free from much damage or wear. The English mono audio is clean and clear, and optional English subtitles are included.


EXTRA FEATURES:
Supplements include two audio commentaries, the first hosted by Marcus Hearn and featuring director Roy Ward Baker and Stephanie Beacham, together for the first time since the film's postproduction more than 30 years ago. As usual, Hearn asks good, probing questions, keeps the guests on track, and supplements their answers with additional bits of information. An excellent job.
 
A second track, this time hosted by Darren Gross, features actor Ian Ogilvy. It's less focused but still pretty entertaining. One is tempted to say that the two tracks should've been combined into one, but there's enough here to justify separate commentaries.


Also included is a good Photo Gallery of international ad art: posters, lobby cards, etc. There are spoiler-filled trailers for --And Now The Screaming Starts (16:9), Asylum and The Beast Must Die (both 4:3 full frame). All are complete with narration and text, though the one for The Beast Must Die is in poor condition.
 
Finally, brief but useful Biographies with short filmographies are included for Peter Cushing, Roy Ward Baker, Stephanie Beacham, Ian Ogilvy, Herbert Lom, and Max J. Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky.


Christopher Gullo contributes singularly weak liner notes on all three Dark Sky/Amicus releases (the others being Asylum and The Beast Must Die). The notes on this title could've been much longer (there's a page and a third of empty space), and on each Gullo simply offers an unneeded plot synopsis, a paragraph-long, capsule history of Amicus (repeated word-for-word on all three liner notes), and a couple of not very enlightening paragraphs of criticism.
 

PARTING THOUGHTS: 
Horror completests will want to own --And Now The Screaming Starts! but even they will likely be disappointed with the film, though they'll likely feel greatly compensated by Dark Sky's handsome presentation.

Original Review: HERE
Images: Marcus Brooks
Buy reviewed DVD: HERE

Monday 2 April 2012

PETER CUSHING: PAUL MCNAMEE'S PETER CUSHING MARATHON: LAP SIX: 'LOCO - MOTION PICTURES'



Webmaster and archivist extraordinaire Marcus Brooks, without whom these Cushtravaganzae would not be half as appealing, can take credit for this week’s central conceit but that title is all mine, baby! Following on from last, er, month’s entry (a small case of redundancy threw a wrench in the creative works) I’ve tackled another Amicus production for your rabid appreciation, as well as one of my favourite Cushing/ Lee efforts, the wonderful Horror Express. Both feature our gallant thesp in on-track adventure and as a double bill they work well, not just thematically but as a pair of good films worth watching with your eyes and all that. With that excessive grandiloquence out of the way, let us move onwards as the Movie Marathon cheats a lap and travels in style by rail...


CAST:
Peter Cushing (Dr Schreck). Werewolf:- Neil McCallum (Jim Dawson), Ursula Howells (Mrs Bidoff), Katy Wild (Valda), Peter Madden (Caleb). Creeping Vine:- Alan Freeman (Bill Rogers), Ann Bell (Ann Rogers), Bernard Lee (Hopkins), Sarah Nichols (Carol Rogers), Jeremy Kemp (Drake). Voodoo:- Roy Castle (Biff Bailey), Kenny Lynch (Sammy). Disembodied Hand:- Christopher Lee (Franklyn Marsh), Michael Gough (Eric Landor). Vampire:- Donald Sutherland (Bob Carroll), Jennifer Jayne (Nicole Carroll), Max Adrian (Dr Blake)

PRODUCTION:
Director – Freddie Francis, Screenplay – Milton Subotsky, Producers – Milton Subotsky & Max J. Rosenberg, Photography – Alan Hume, Music – Elizabeth Lutyens, Music Co-ordinator – Philip Martell, Jazz Music – Tubby Hayes, Songs – Kenny Lynch, Special Effects – Ted Samuels, Makeup – Roy Ashton, Art Direction – Bill Constable. Production Company – Amicus.


I swore aloud as I loaded my good buddy Kirby’s copy of Dr. Terror and spied the German title as it lit my screen (he has a habit of speaking other languages like a great big multicultural jerk) but luckily the disc has English audio and I stopped just short of sending him an angry text (something along the lines of “curse you Kirby, WE CAN’T ALL SPEAK GERMAN”). The credits don't hold any exciting secrets (and in fact I managed to miss one cast member altogether whose later appearance surprised me to no end) but given that Sir Pete plays the titular Terror I could at least look forward to an expanded role compared to the last two Amicus films I "reviewed".

Within the first five minutes I'd developed a sneaking suspicion about how the train on which five hapless sorts are traveling was going to figure into the overall plot. Let's just say that if you've seen a few of the other Amicus anthologies, you're unlikely to be shocked by the last minute revelation. What gets me is how they (ie Milton Subotsky) were so comfortable essentially writing the same film over and over given how pivotal the framing device is, in these movies.


Anyway, on pile the sharply dressed young men. Ooh, look,  one's Christopher Lee. And there's Donald Sutherland. And last among them comes beardy, quietly menacing, overbite-sporting Dr. Terror himself, our man Cush. As the good doctor, he is simply tremendous, nailing a very subtle German accent and intoning "an unfortunate misnomer, for I am the mildest of men". Your words say mildest, Terror, but your very nature screams trouble. He commences doling out tall tales about his companions' futures based on his deck of tarot cards (in a treatment no fortune teller has ever given me) to a mixture of rapt interest and vehement denouncement on Lee's part. Christopher Lee as a stuffy, uptight nerd. Now I've seen everything.


The first of the five stories features a werewolf and a house and some people and things. One lady comments, "the only thing I don’t like about living on this island is that the shops don’t deliver” and I can’t help but think that her perspective is going to change once she realises someone buried a werewolf in her basement (and as excellent as this film’s title is, “Someone Buried A Werewolf In My Basement” is miles better, right?) A ludicrously Scottish man roams about the house, discovers some remains in the basement, is stalked out of shot by a HAIRY HAND (nothing I love more in a horror film that a hairy hand attached to nothing) and finally distracted by a rat, long enough for the werewolf to escape from its coffin (its coffin???) and attack, I dunno, someone. We have a Hammer Scream, those delightful male shrieks of terror, despite this being made by a rival studio. Then the werewolf knocks a door and waits for permission to enter. This is the best werewolf scene in the history of movies. Then there's a twist and we're back on the train for round two.


That surprise I mentioned earlier? BERNARD LEE! M HIMSELF! You know, before M himself was M herself. Surely he is the only man who could deliver the line "a dog, strangled by a vine" with such gravitas. Oh yeah, this story's about a vine that kills people. Basically, if I was to sum it up, it's kinda like the entire plot of The Happening, but condensed into about 20 minutes in a much, much better film. But no less stupid. Plant-based horror just turns me right off. As much as the hand-operated scary branches amused me, I had totally forgotten about this section until reading my notes afterwards, and that's the truth.


Next, cheeky chappy Roy Castle nips off to the West Indies (OF DOOM) with a borderline offensive accent adoption to steal notes from voodoo-fond drummers to use in his jazz band before spooky goings-on turn him off musical plagiarism for life, but it's played for laughs and has no real ramification at all. Plus he runs past a film poster for, you guessed it, "Someone Buried A Werewo"..., sorry, Dr. Terror's House Of Horrors. Skip!


Round 4, and Christopher Lee is given a chance to shine as a particularly spiteful art critic (aren't they ALL?) who comes up against his old Dracula nemesis Michael Gough and runs him over for making him look like a fool with the use of a chimp. There's another Hammer Scream in there (from Gough, surely a dab hand), and a murderous hand that stalks Lee across the country before his ironic comeuppance at the end of the section.


Then Donald Sutherland and crap pajamas and a vampire and a doctor but not a vampire but a vampire AND a doctor.


In case you couldn't tell, I really wanted to get to the ending, which brings revelations about Dr. Terror and his terror train. Sure, you could see it coming from a hundred miles away (with a telescope) but it's so tastefully executed even with the use of a plastic skull (ever notice these horror skulls never have a full set of teeth?). When asked about his true identity, Cushing turns and chills to the marrow with a "have you not guessed?" It's the creepiest moment in any Cushing performance I've ever seen and the best single line to grab from any of films to showcase his talent in a single moment.


CAST:
Christopher Lee (Sir Alexander Saxton), Peter Cushing (Dr Wells), Julio Pena (Inspector Mirov), Albert de Mendoza (Pujardov), Telly Savalas (Captain Kazan), Silvia Tortosa (Irina Petrovski), Alice Reinhart (Miss Jones), Jorge Rigaud (Count Petrovski), Helga Line (Natasha)

PRODUCTION:
Director/Story – Gene Martin [Eugenio Martin], Screenplay – Arnaud D’Usseau & Julian Halervy, Producer – Bernard Gordon, Photography – Alejandro Ulloa, Music – John Cacavas, Special Effects – Pablo Perez, Makeup – Julian Ruiz, Art Direction – Ramiro Gomez Guardiana. Production Company – Grenada/Benmar Productions.  ( AKA Panic On The Trans-Siberian (Panico en el Transiberiano)


Horror Express has a lot going for it. Sir Pete, actual knight Sir Christopher Lee and Telly Savalas are surrounded by an impressive cast including the supremely creepy Alberto De Mendoza as whistling monk Pujardov. Oh, and let’s not forget the hulking man-thing that’s loose aboard the Orient Express treating the passengers as his very own all-you-can-eat brainfeast. My Cinema Club DVD isn’t the best transfer (in fact, it’s that bad that when I heard there was an HD transfer forthcoming I literally didn’t believe it. I actually, truly thought it was some kind of really rubbish joke designed to wind up a small portion of cult horror fans. Go fig) but it suits the low budget cheapness of the film. Some films are best watched in poor quality, argues the horror purist. I mean, any film that opens with a shaky shot of a train whistling by with the shadow of the cameraman in shot would hardly benefit from the clarity HD would bring to such messiness. Seriously, the opening scene where a bodaciously-mustachioed Lee discovers the aforementioned man-thing in a cave looks more like on-set footage from a documentary than an actual establishing scene in a motion picture. Hardly something to get upset over, so let’s move on to the meat of this mother.


It also becomes apparent as the credits roll that this is a Spanish production and you may begin to wonder just how our most English of Englishmen are going to fit into proceedings. As it turns out, the film was shot in silence as a cost-cutting measure and is, entirely, dubbed. It’d take a trained ear to notice, though, and there’s a touch of professionalism that could fool you if that total lack of reverb didn’t stick out like a sore, hairy thumb.

I’ll tell you one thing that really makes this movie is John Cacavas’ score, and despite the name he’s not a member of the Spanish team but a UK veteran who scored – horribly – the last two Cushing/ Lee Dracula pictures, but I’ve dealt with those before and I’ve gotta move on. His central theme pops up both on the score and on characters’ lips as the haunting whistled tune makes its way somewhat metaphysically across the train, spelling doom for all those who encounter it one way or another.


The missing link monster and the abundance of shots of only his hairy arm or face in shadow recall the earlier Cushing vehicle The Abominable Snowman which has too enjoyed the Movie Marathon treatment. I’m sure it’s nothing as obvious as homage but it’s neat picking up similarities anyway. Perhaps what this film is best remembered for is the line “Monster? We’re British, you know?”, another delicious stab of metaphysics given that as far as the reel world was concerned that’s exactly what the British had been known for for close to thirteen years upon its 1972 release.

Early impressions of Lee’s character paint him as a bit of a jerk, and he’s arguably responsible for every single death in the movie when it comes down to it. When Pujardov demonstrates that his monster-containing crate doesn’t allow the tracing of a chalk cross, he dismisses it as “a conjurer's trick” and later hypnosis. Honestly, you think he of all people would know better. Like he’s above hypnotising PYTs to get what he wants. He emerges as something resembling a hero towards the end but for the most part he’s just there for Cushing to play of off. As often, Sir Pete is in gentleman mode, and this is one of his most upbeat performances given the recent death of his wife Helen. Sadly, we’re not treated to a Cushing Ruckus or any real instance of violence but as ever it’s a joy to watch his graceful delivery of dialogue, particularly when requested to perform an autopsy during his dinner. At another point he makes a fairly understandable statement but caps it with the analogy “like chalk erased from a blackboard”, and while its necessity is questionable you can’t help but appreciate him taking the effort. He’s also accused (by way of implication) of sexism early in the film which I honestly don’t think he’s at all capable of, even as a fictional character.


And even though this isn’t the Alberto De Mendoza And Telly Savalas Appreciation Society UK (can we get working on that, Marcus? Call me, we’ll do lunch), these two deserve probably the most praise for their commanding performances. De Mendoza is instantly creepy and almost messianic in appearance (which given the movie’s final reel is chillingly prescient), swaying in general dishevelment and stealing his every scene. Savalas, who’s introduced late in the film spouting disjointed madness in what appears to be a giant wooden sex crib, is movie gold. Not a second wasted, he brings the action wherever he goes and films from Capricorn One to The Muppet Movie have benefited from a Savalas injection.

The monster merits a mention too. For the most part he’s rendered comical, thanks to those shots of his arm fondling about for things his single red eye can’t quite see, but the later revelation that he’s as old as creation and in that grandeur akin to Satan is heady stuff and adds a depth to his prosthetic shenanigans most filmmakers can only dream of. Still, the scene where his memories are viewed through his removed ocular fluid and reveal his palling about with dinosaurs could just as easily be read (by me) that he recently visited an art gallery. M’only sayin’.


The horror of the title is fairly full on, too, with grue to spare and a blacker than black stripe of humour thanks to the monster’s inquisitive opening of skulls, post-autopsy, with a satisfying coconut clap. His murdering technique of bleeding out memories through the eyes, accompanied by a striking and unsettling music cue, is very effective. Top marks. Heck, top of the class, monster.

A few telling shots of the train as a model give away the inevitable explosive ending, but despite certain confirmations that this is another disposable star-powered studio horror laced with wry humour and populated by ladies with nothing to do but look privileged and pretty, there’s a serious heaviness to the film’s implications about the nature of evil and it’s really worth any horror fan’s time. There’s lofty ambition amongst the shlock.


So, another pair down and another step closer to striking ‘consume the complete Peter Cushing catalogue or at least that much of it that I can easily lay my hands on’ off the awkwardly-phrased bucket list. These are two I’d easily recommend. Horror Express is a sleazy little classic and Dr. Terror’s the best of the Amicus films I’ve seen so far, which is to say the best of three slightly numbing experiences that successfully blend entertainment with vague disappointment. At least each is a solid platform for the talents of the one man for whom we’re all here....Peter Cushing.

Call back in a fortnight to catch me on another lap...!


Review: Paul Mcnamee
Images: Marcus Brooks

Friday 30 March 2012

PETER CUSHING: CANDID PHOTOGRAPH OF PETER CUSHING AT CUSHING'S VIEW WHITSTABLE LATE 1980'S


PETER CUSHING SAT ON THE SEA WALL IN WHITSTABLE NEAR HIS SEA FRONT HOME IN SEASALTER. THIS AREA WAS SOON TO BE NAMED, 'CUSHING'S VIEW'. PETER IS STILL WEARING HIS BEARD THAT HE GREW IN HOPE OF SOON MAKING 'THE ABBOT'S CRY' SHERLOCK HOLMES FILM FOR TYBURN FILMS. A PROJECT THAT SADLY NEVER CAME TO FRUITION.

Thursday 29 March 2012

PETER CUSHING'S EASTER TELEVISION BROADCAST SUNDAY APRIL 14TH 1974

Many recordings of Peter's television work have been lost to us. The BBC's spring clean several years ago put pay to much of it. Thirty Eight years ago this EASTER, Sunday April 14th, 1974, Peter Cushing appeared in a Easter Holiday series of programmes on TV in the UK. Peter's programme was entitled, 'WHAT WAS HE LIKE'. Peter was invited to share his ideas about the life of Christ. The programme was broadcast and stored, the television company lost it's franchise and then like many others, lost it's archive. I've tried over the years to track down this programme, but haven't even come close. But, here is a photograph taken of the TV screen, during that programme's transmission. It is I think, all that remains of that particular entry in Peter's long list of television credits. My apologies for the quality of the photograph, this was before domestic video recording...but I thought you'd like to see it.

Wednesday 28 March 2012

PETER CUSHING: BEHIND THE SCENES: TRANSPARENCY: 'THE SATANIC RITES OF DRACULA' HAMMER FILM 1973



'THE SATANIC RITES OF DRACULA' HAMMER FILM PRODUCTIONS (1973)
FULL COLOUR TRANSPARENCY: 2080 X 1379

CAST:
Peter Cushing (Lorrimer Van Helsing), Christopher Lee (Count Dracula/D.D. Denham), William Franklyn (Torrence), Michael Coles (Inspector Murray), Joanna Lumley (Jessica Van Helsing), Freddie Jones (Professor Julian Keeley), Barbara Yu Ling (Chin Yang), Valerie Ost (Jane), Richard Vernon (Colonel Matthews), Patrick Barr (Lord Carradine)

PRODUCTION CREW:
Director – Alan Gibson, Screenplay – Don Houghton, Producer – Roy Skeggs, Photography – Brian Probyn, Music – John Cavacas, Special Effects – Les Bowie, Makeup – George Blackler, Art Direction – Lionel Couch. Production Company – Hammer/EMI.

PETER CUSHING: VINTAGE ASIAN PROMOTION BILL: AMICUS 'THE SKULL' 1965


A VERY NICE PIECE OF VINTAGE ASIAN PROMOTION BILL FOR AMICUS FILMS 'THE SKULL' BECAUSE THESE WERE JUST HANDED OUT IN THE STREETS, WRAPPED AROUND FOOD OR USED TO LINE THE CAT TRAY (!)...VERY FEW SURVIVE. A LITTLE PRECURSOR TO NEXT WEEKS FEATURE ON PETER CUSHING'S 'THE SKULL'...

PETER CUSHING: HAMMER FILM PRODUCTIONS: 'SHE' DVD REVIEW AND GALLERY



PRODUCTION: 
Director: Robert Day, Screenplay: David T. Chantler, Based on the Novel by H. Rider Haggard, Producer: Michael Carreras, Photography: Harry Waxman, Music: James Bernard, Music Supervisor: Philip Martell, Special Processes: Bowie Films, Special Effects: George Blackwell, Makeup Effects: Roy Ashton, Art Direction: Robert Jones. Production Company:  HammerFilms/Seven Arts.  

CAST:
John Richardson (Leo Vincey), Ursula Andress (Ayesha), Peter Cushing (Major Hollis L. Holly), Bernard Cribbins (Job), Rosenda Monteros (Ustane), Christopher Lee (Billali), Andre Morell (Haumeid)


BY THE MIDDLE OF THE 1960s England's Hammer films were working to diversify their product and maximize their gains. American investment in co-productions would continue in deals made with 20th-Fox, Warners and MGM. But Hammer's straight horror movies were their only real success story, as most of the company's psycho-thrillers and adventure movies didn't hit big on U.S. shores. Spreading out into other areas of fantasy, Hammer had two solid hits with 1967's One Million Years B.C., and, earlier, this action-oriented remake of H. Rider Haggard's She, first written in 1886. She, a fantastic adventure about an immortal white queen in a lost city, must have fired the imagination of the pulp fiction world; exotic adventure franchises from Tarzan to Lost Horizon owe it a great debt. Written over thirty years later, Pierre Benoit's highly popular tale L'atlantide was clobbered with a plagiarism suit over a number of striking similarities.

SHE WAS REMADE more than once as a silent film until Merian C. Cooper produced what's pretty much considered the definitive version at RKO in 1935. Despite qualities much appreciated now, it didn't fare well and was considered a failure. That Hammer Films undertook a remake wasn't unusual, as the company had made its name with film versions of radio and TV shows; its core gothic horror hits were licensed from Universal. Ursula Andress was first signed in 1963 but the show had to wait when Universal backed out of its distribution deal.


SHE IS A SHOWCASE for sixties' beauty Andress, who had become an immediate international star after slinking out of a Jamaican lagoon in a white bikini in the first Bond film, Dr. No. Rarely showing any great acting skill, Andress is optimum casting for the role of "Ayesha, She Who Must Be Obeyed": most of her scenes require her to stand like a statue and purr sweet nothings to her lover, promising "everything you can imagine, Leo". That was more than enough to keep the attention of the male audience in 1965.


H. RIDER HAGGARD'S STORY is set in darkest Africa, while the '35 film locates the lost city of Kor to northern Siberia. Screenwriter David T. Chantler sets Hammer's "Kuma" somewhere in the deserts of the Middle East. We begin in Palestine right after the WW1 armistice; war buddies Leo Vincey, Holly and Job (John Richardson, Peter Cushing & Bernard Cribbins) are enjoying the night life in a cabaret when they're approached by the sultry Ustane (Rosenda Monteros of The Magnificent Seven). Ustane is acting as an agent for Ayesha (Andress), who instantly recognizes the blonde, handsome Leo as the reincarnation of her lover Kallikrates -- who she murdered for infidelity 2,000 years ago. On the evidence of a map and a ring, which Holly identifies as an authentic and priceless piece of antiquity, the trio crosses the desert and eventually joins up with Ustane, who has fallen in love with Leo. Ustane's father Haumeid (Andre Morell, voiced by George Pastell) rules a black tribe guarding the entrance to the Lost City of Kuma. The three adventurers become guests of the haughty Queen, who executes some of the natives and plans to do away with Ustane out of pure jealousy. But Leo is entranced, especially when Ayesha shows him the preserved remains of Kallikrates and inspires him with the promise of eternal youth in her arms. The Queen has a secret chamber where burns a sacred fire, and all Leo need do to become immortal is to step into the cold flame. Watching all of this is Billali (Christopher Lee), Ayesha's loyal high priest. After a few talks with Holly, Billali begins to consider breaking his vows and entering the flames as well.



SHE WORKS BECAUSE it's centred on the star aura of Ursula Andress. Considered by many to be an ideal of feminine beauty, Andress's ample charms encourage the males in the audience to weigh the proposition offered to Leo Vincey: if he gives up a little freedom (including his 20th-century identity) he'll become a demigod mated to the ultimate woman. That's an interesting idea to ponder, for the average guy who marries a girl and then wonders why all the dreams of pop songs and romantic movies fail to kick in. Although disparaged as an actor John Richardson must have made a big impression on casting directors; he became the (mostly forgotten) drone mate for three of the hottest femmes fantastiques of the 1960s: Andress, Barbara Steele and Raquel Welch. Richardson's face is the kind that might belong on an ancient coin. A careful listen will reveal that his entire vocal performance was post-dubbed. In the echo-y set in Palestine, Cushing and Cribbins' voices cut in with strong presence background noise from the set. Richardson's lines are crystal clean, having been recorded later in the studio. Ms. Andress's entire role was re-voiced as well, but the match is so good that we hardly notice -- the talented Monica Van Der Syl even mimicked the star's Swiss accent.


PETER CUSHING and Bernard Cribbins seem to be tempering their performances, so as not to overpower the less arresting performers around them. Both are at ease with the expositional dialogue that ponders the seeming magic by which Leo seems to know the way to the legendary Kuma, and scoffs at the notion that Ayesha could really be thousands of years old. The overly literal script slows things down with unnecessary explanations for things we already understand quite well -- most of the narrative surprises are revealed back in Palestine, before the adventure proper gets underway.


CUSHING'S BEST SCENES are with his old pal Christopher Lee, if only because neither is playing a monster. Lee's Billali looks disturbed when Holly makes light of the priest's ancestors, all rotted corpses lined up like Guanajuato mummies, with a pointedly empty alcove waiting to receive Billali when he dies. We're told that Christopher Lee was upset when his role was cut down; he and Ayesha were originally scripted to sing a chant to the assembled court. It's easy to imagine Billali's unhappy face as reflecting Lee's anger that he's yet again been given short shrift by the Hammer brass. Billali's eleventh-hour attempt to get in on the immortality hot-tub experience is thus one of the story's high points. The priest is a faithful admirer of Ayesha and the only one in the story who seems to deserve a reward.


HAMMER-PHILES can point to She as sort of a reverse Dracula: Ayesha made a "deal" with supernatural forces long in the past, and never dies. Alternately known as "She Who Waits", the ageless queen takes out her frustration on luckless natives and whatever unlucky dame wanders into the picture -- as in a Joan Crawford movie, there's no room in Kuma for upstart competitors. And Ayesha's end (written before Bram Stoker needed a good play to spice up his theater season) is remarkably like Dracula's -- what them Gods done give, they gosh darn take away, and with a wicked sense of timing, too. Ursula Andress's appeal is all sex with little of the wispy ethereal romanticism of RKO's Helen Gahaghan, and thus less of a tragic figure. That quality gets passed along to Richardson's Leo, a rather nice twist for the audience to ponder on the way out.


SOMEWHAT LOST in this construction is Rosenda Monteros' Ustane, a character much reduced from the fine role played by Helen Mack in 1935. Ustane is never a serious choice for the vain Leo, and suffers considerably for it. A story of an uppity Queen who gets her just (dust?) desserts, She isn't as misogynistic as one might think. For every grand dame throwing her weight around, there's an innocent victimized by a hopeless commitment to Love.

SHE ISN'T THE KIND OF  Hammer film that could be filmed at their tiny Bray Studios; it's likely that the MGM connection provided more upscale facilities at the pricey stage rentals at ABPC Elstree. Although the production values can't touch the earlier RKO film the movie can boast attractive sets and good location filming in Israel's Negev desert for the trek sequences. Andress sports a number of killer gowns but the overall good costume work is undermined by the choice of off-the-rack Roman pieces for Ayesha's palace guard.


DIRECTOR ROBERT DAY (Corridors of Blood) handles the dramatic scenes while stunt arrangers seem to be in control of the battles with Arab nomads and the climactic revolt of Haumeid's native contingent. These fights are okay even when they betray the fact that Kuma is sketched with a fraction of the extras used in the cheapest Italian sword 'n' sandal pix of the time. The budget doesn't stretch much farther than the nice throne room set. The special effects are limited to a few ambitious matte paintings that don't work as well as those in the better-designed RKO show, even though the earlier work sometimes looked like charcoal drawings!


I DON'T KNOW IF SHE  was trimmed for American screens because I never saw it new -- it played only at the Drive-Ins in my town, and at 13 years of age I wasn't driving yet. The opening cabaret scene's belly dancer wears a revealing costume that I can't believe would have played in San Bernardino, but perhaps I wasn't seeing as many sexy movies as I should have been. Just the same, it's fun watching Peter Cushing jumping to his feet to dance up close with the babes -- he does a service to the glamour-challenged historian-archaeologist profession!



THE WARNER ARCHIVES COLLECTION on-demand DVD-R of the 1965 She is a good encoding of a reasonably good enhanced transfer probably dating back ten years. As covered in Warners' disclaimers, dirt and speckling are more visible than one would expect from a mainstream DVD release. Colors are acceptable for a picture that has clearly not been re-mastered from original elements. Browns, golds and flesh tones sort of blend in with each other, leaving Ursula Andress's most impressive feathered gown and golden headdress looking a little drab. Other than that the picture is fine. Most of Harry Waxman's anamorphic cinematography is inexpressive high-key work that detracts from the story's air of mystery while making Andress look supremely attractive.


SOME DISTORTED SHOTS gave rise to web snipers complaining that the entire transfer is a botch job, that it's a 1:85 transfer stretched out to fill the 2:35 aspect ratio, etc. The fact is that She, a CinemaScope film, suffers from problems with the CinemaScope "mumps". The offending distorted shots are all close-ups of medallions and a few faces filmed at very close range; either the lens was poorly set-up or just couldn't be that close to the subject without squashing things out a bit. So the medallion looks slightly oval on the horizonal axis, as do some choker close-ups. Note that Ms. Andress's single shots never get too tight, probably because the cameramen gave them extra care. Oddly, one of the mattes of a giant statue looks kind of squashed out as well, but there are many reasons why that could occur -- maybe the optical printer operator had to adjust it to make the matte fit properly (?).


WITH THE EXCEPTION of one brief patch the audio track is clear, which is good news for fans of composer James Bernard. His score has a terrific theme for Ayesha that fills in the romance and mystery sometimes lacking in the film's visuals. Bernard's desert safari theme is excellent as well, suggesting the optimistic sense of classic adventure that She recaptured for new audiences.

Like most Warner Archives collection discs, She is also available as a digital download.

On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor, She rates:
Movie: Very Good ++
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Supplements: none
Packaging: Keep Case

1. Although Andress certainly did have her moments, mostly in smaller pictures, she's seductive and funny in the little known crime caper Perfect Friday.
2. Some sources say it was filmed in Megascope or Hammerscope, Hammer-specific terms used for various leased or rented anamorphic lens systems. One pan in the Kuma throne room shows how warped the visual field is in the main lens -- the room distorts in waves as it passes in front of the anamorphic lens element.



REVIEW: Glenn Erickson
here
IMAGES: Marcus Brooks
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