Showing posts with label OLD MAN HATS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label OLD MAN HATS. Show all posts

Monday, January 5, 2015

The Hound of the Baskervilles


The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959)
Dir. Terence Fisher
Written by Peter Bryan, from the novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Starring Peter Cushing, Andre Morell, Christopher Lee




A very nicely appointed Hammer adaptation of perhaps the most famous Sherlock Holmes story ever, this is perhaps more mystery than horror, though Hammer valiantly endeavors to massage it into one. Despite their reputation as England’s premier horror studio, they’d always dabbled in other genres --from thrillers to comedies-- so it shouldn’t be a huge surprise that this isn’t strictly horror. But just to be clear, it’s mostly not. The title font would sure beg to differ, though; check this out:




The script sticks relatively close to the original Arthur Conan Doyle story, although it does invent a few harrowing incidents to add a little horror kick, and (pleasingly!) changes the motive of a key villain in a way that I feel is pure Hammer. But it’s all to good effect: the story is as tonally faithful to Holmes as they come, a gripping mystery with tons of that Hammer atmosphere and a great cast bringing the legendary (and, these days, ubiquitous*) detective to life.


A few minor tweaks to the story (Tarantula attack! Murderous ritual!) and the scary title font notwithstanding, this is mostly the same old Baskervilles mystery that has been adapted for the big and small screens nearly 30 times since 1914 (wikipedia lists 29 entries, I imagine many others exist) in English, German, Russian, and, what the hell, Bengali and probably Klington too before too long. What makes this version in particular shine is its immensely appealing cast and its rock-solid production. Directed by the great Terence Fisher (Hammer’s original DRACULA and FRANKENSTEIN and many of the best subsequent sequels, among innumerable others) and filmed in color for the first time in the story’s history, it splendidly captures the novel’s evocative world of fog-choked isolation and murky paranoia. But a good Holmes story is going to live or die on its title character (well, the one named “Holmes,” not the one named “Baskerville” or “Hound”) and I’m just as pleased as punch to report that Cushing is a delight as the great sleuth of Baker street.




Cushing often got cast as coldly intellectual villains (see: his turn as Victor Frankenstein), so of course it makes sense that playing history’s greatest coldly intellectual hero would suit him just fine. But Cushing seems not just capable, but positively electrified to be playing the part, instilling Holmes with an energy and vigor bordering on the manic. Holmes may be a calculating intellectual, but Cushing reminds us of the fierce love Holmes has for this line of work, the only thing that seems to really rouse him from the doldrums of daily routine. He seems barely able to contain his impish excitement at the prospect of a new clue, and the energy is monstrously infectious. It’s a good thing, too, since the story has an unusual structure which sidelines Holmes for much of the second act, meaning he has his work cut out for him to reestablish his dominance and momentum when he returns later on. Cushing makes it look easy. The actor was apparently an enormous fan of the character, and brought his own expertise to the production. Wikipedia notes that it was Cushing’s idea, for example, to add the detail of Holmes’s correspondence affixed to the mantle with a jackknife, as described by Doyle. I would venture a guess that it was also his idea to include a clever detail about the character’s iconic deerstalker cap. The cap has become so iconic and emblematic of the character that no production would dare leave it out (in an interview, Cushing quipped “...you might as well play Nelson without a patch over his eye!”), but ironically the cap is never explicitly described by Doyle in his stories. What to do, what to do? Well, this production finds the detective donning the famed headwear later on in the story, but there’s a very subtle blink-and-you-missed-it twist:it’s not his own, he’s borrowing it after arriving on the scene without any luggage.


Besides Cushing, the film also boasts Andre Morell (so delightful in PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES and a handful of other Hammer productions) as Holmes’s perennial companion and biographer Dr. Watson. Morell, like Cushing, seems so obvious for the part that it almost seems like typecasting, but also fucking nails the subtly difficult task of instilling Watson with dignity and grit even while still playing a sidekick character constantly befuddled by his companion’s inhuman cleverness. As luck would have it, this particular story gives Watson a rare opportunity to take over as the lead for a brief period during the second act (while Holmes is absent) and Morell handily carries the film here with an earnest, stout hearted charm. Nigel Bruce’s bumbling take on the character would make Holmes look dangerously neglectful leaving him in charge; Morell comes across as competent and bulldogish, reminding you that while he has neither the imagination nor the inclination to be the world’s greatest detective, he was an ex-military man who no doubt knows a thing or two about keeping cool under pressure.




Lee, reportedly happy to be playing the role of victim rather than villain in this go-round, fares slightly less well than his two co-stars. No stranger to the character himself, Lee is the only actor in history to have played all three intellectual heavyweights of the Holmes stories, including the detective himself, his legendary nemesis professor Moriarty, and Holmes’ equally brilliant brother Mycroft (too bad he never took a swing at Watson, but I guess there’s still time). Unfortunately as the aristocratic heir to the famously cursed Baskerville Hall, Lee’s part seems a little underwritten. He comes off as as imperious and cold, which doesn’t necessarily suit his role as victim very well, and feels even weirder when he gets a romantic subplot which seems a bit out of character. It’s always nice to see him in there, but the role doesn’t really play to his strengths or give him a terrible lot to do. He can be good as a hero (see: THE DEVIL RIDES OUT) but I’m not sure he’s cut out to play a character this passive. This minor shortfall is made up for by the rest of the cast, though. In something of a rarity for Hammer pictures, the supporting cast is made up of fine performances, from the villains and potential suspects down to the local priest (Miles Malleson, Sultan in THE THIEF OF BAGHDAD and a total hoot here) with a weak spot for fine wine and insect menageries.


Towards the end, the story does veer towards the realm of genuine horror, ratcheting up the necessary tension for a suitable climax and even pleasingly changing the motivation of a key villain to make it more interesting. We get the titular hound, a great Hammer set of megalithic ruins, a commendably crazy performance from the villain, and even enough blood to satisfy genres expectations (at least in 1959) quite handily. Not often you’ll hear me actually congratulating a movie for deliberately changing some important story details, but I gotta admit, I think the Hammer ending is actually more compelling than Doyle's is. It maintains pretty much everything great about the original, while going on to add one additional little wrinkle which for my money makes it even darker and more twisted. Good one, Hammer and screenwriter Peter Bryan (screenplays for PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES and BLOOD BEAST TERROR, his second career after racking up 19 films as a camera operator from 1947-1952). But as much as this production does a commendable job with the story, it’s still a story that we’ve all heard enough times by now (and even by 1959, I’d imagine). So the real meat here isn’t the plot, it’s the production, the cast, the detail work, those unique little notes that set it apart from the pack. Happily, that’s where this production succeeds most, and probably why it’s remembered as one of the best-loved Holmes adaptation and as one of the most acclaimed Hammer productions. Considering how gung-ho Hammer was at the time to launch (sometimes ill-advised) franchise series, it’s kind of amazing they never did any further Holmes films (though Cushing would go on to play the character in a BBC series nine years later). But at least we got this one. For a character so ludicrously over-adapted that he barely has any independent meaning anymore, sometimes just standing out of the pack is the best you can hope for.

*”Hey everyone, it’s an intellectual property that virtually everyone has some name recognition of, it’s genre-friendly, and --get this!-- it’s in the public domain!” OUR PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED! Same thing with Bible stories. Who says Hollywood isn’t down with the idea that information wants to be free?



CHAINSAWNUKAH 2014 CHECKLIST!
The Hunt For Dread October

  • LITERARY ADAPTATION: Yes, of Arthur Conan Doyle's novel of the same name.
  • SEQUEL: Strangely, none.
  • REMAKE: Dozens of other adaptations, but perhaps not direct remakes.
  • FOREIGNER: Hammer time -- Britain.
  • FOUND-FOOTAGE CLUSTERFUCK: No
  • SLUMMING A-LISTER: None
  • BELOVED HORROR ICON: Cushing, Lee, maybe Morell counts too, as a Hammer regular?
  • BOOBIES: None, 1959
  • SEXUAL ASSAULT: None, although Lee does do that thing that men used to do all the time in old movies where he has to violently hug a screaming woman until she calms down.
  • DISMEMBERMENT PLAN: None
  • HAUNTED HOUSE: None
  • MONSTER: The hellhound of the title
  • THE UNDEAD: None
  • POSSESSION: No
  • SLASHER/GIALLO: No
  • PSYCHO KILLERS (Non-slasher variety): Possibly.
  • EVIL CULT: There is an implication that this is being done as part of some diabolical ritual.
  • (UNCANNY) VALLEY OF THE DOLLS: None
  • TRANSMOGRIFICATION: No
  • OBSCURITY LEVEL: Mid. Highbrow Hammer, critically well-received.
  • MORAL OF THE STORY: There are still some open possibilities for AIR BUD sequels.
  • TITLE ACCURACY: Correct
  • ALEX MADE IT THROUGH AWAKE: N/A



Tuesday, November 15, 2011

To the Devil A Daughter


To the Devil A Daughter (1976)
Dir. Peter Sykes
Starring Richard Widmark, Christopher Lee, Honor Blackman, Denholm Elliot, Natasha Kinski


                TO THE DEVIL A DAUGHTER, adapted from the Dennis Wheatley book of the same name, is a serviceable if unexceptional Hammer film with a few touches which are undeniably awesome but not quite enough to make it great. That’s a hard truth to face about a film which features Richard Widmark facing off against Christopher Lee in a paranoia-drenched battle of wills over the not-insignificant issue of whether or not the antichrist should be brought to Earth, but there is it. You want it to be great, you sort of know better than to hope, but you think maybe, just this one time, your instincts are wrong and it’s actually going to be everything it ought to be. And then instead you get pretty good just like you knew you would. Hammer films are like that. They’re the asshole boyfriend that does the exact minimum it has to do to keep you from completely giving up on his ever being more than a lousy good for nothing layabout. He gets drunk and passes out on the couch with his stupid friends, and one of them throws up on your roommates’ weird fad diet DVD collection, but then just when you’re about to throw him to the curb he also casts Christopher Lee as a heretic priest who holds masked orgies in the name of resurrecting Satan and tricks you into thinking maybe there’s really something there, he just has to grow up a little.

But enough about my life. The pretty good here is obviously Lee, who, yes, plays a heretic priest who holds masked orgies in the name of bringing forth the antichrist (under the watchful gaze of a giant 20-foot-tall golden cloven-hoof devil idol being anally penetrated by an inverted cross. Tacky, but admittedly attention-grabbing). And man, bringing that fucker to Earth is a messy, convoluted business which requires all manner of confusing shenanigans over several decades, some of which I think are probably dreams but it’s a little hard to be sure. Figures Satan would make it some shit like that. With God, he arranged all that shit ahead of time, and all we had to take care of was the killing. But no, Satan’s gonna make you work for it. What an asshole. It’s fairly standard Satanic stuff for the most part, and made somewhat less threatening by the fact that there seem to be only two other elderly people assisting poor Christopher Lee in this endeavor. And one of them dies like 20 minutes in. 

Still, Lee gamely steps up to the plate and turns in an unusually awesome performance, even for him. He seems a bit more awake than he seems in some of these Hammer Dracula films, and I’m thinking that might have something to do with the fact that he almost has to actually do some acting this time around. His character is a former Catholic priest who did a little too much reading in the forbidden book section (see, Harry Potter? This is why they lock that shit up) and came to the conclusion that this Satanism thing probably has something to it. But it’s kinda cool because he honestly doesn’t seem to see himself as a bad guy, I think he really believes that he’s actually the only good Catholic left (he still wears his priest collar thingy, for instance, and when we see him get excommunicated at the beginning, he belligerently tells the bishop:, "It is not heresy... and I will not recant!" (remember, from the beginning of that Rob Zombie song?). So while he’s not afraid to play rough, he comes across more as an intensely religious fanatic than the usual cheeseball movie Satanists, and that’s both scarier and more interesting. His followers, including the film’s McGuffin character, somehow seem to think they’re just an obscure sect of Christianity and get quite offended when other people suggest that it’s in any way evil to bring about the birth of the antichrist. 

The McGuffin in this case is Natasha Kinski (yes, Klaus’ daughter), a nun raised by Lee who implausibly seems to have never noticed how obviously evil everything going on around her is, like my cousin who was raised by Republicans. It was only her second movie, and she was apparently only 15 when she shot it. Oh wait, you didn’t know that? Now you’re regretting that big smile you had during her full frontal scene. You sick fuck. Always ID first, champ. 

Anyway, she has only a vague idea of how she fits into the plan, but Lee plans to have her end up the mother of the incoming antichrist. Fuckin’ Europeans, man. Always gettin ‘em when they’re young. Denholm Elliot plays her father, who somehow missed the fact that his wife was a Satanic cultist and got roped into the whole deal at the last minute, when he apparently happened to wander into the exact wrong illicit ceremony at the exact wrong time (note to Satanists: why not lock the door?). He’s her father and he’s the only one who knows what the stakes are, so naturally he frets about it, grabs a random American off the street who seems to have some background in the Satan stuff, and foists the whole thing off on him on his way to go cower in an attic. Way to represent, English. On the other hand, Elliot is pretty great here, cranking up his frenzied panic to 11 and really selling us on how worried we should be about this thing, even when his fellow cast members seems somewhat less interested.

Widmark is that American, an expert on Satanism so familiar with the subject that he can kind of sound bored when he talks about it. Like, really bored. He wears a floppy old man hat and sweater vest for almost the entire runtime, but he’s the only American, so I guess he’s the only one who can save the world. Widmark-- who in all honesty cannot fairly be accused of trying too hard here-- varies between mildly concerned and unabashedly bored throughout the whole thing, but he does have one truly splendid moment where some guy he seems like he kind of know gets burned to ashes next to him. He finally takes off his leather-elbowed jacket, covers his buddy, throws his arms to his side, cocks his head back, and howls in his thin, reedy old guy wail: “Daaaaammmmmmmmnnnn   yyyyyyyooooooooOOOOOOOOUUUUUU!!!!” That's pretty rad. Then he awkwardly runs off to the big climax (where he achieves victory by throwing a rock at Christopher Lee and then walking away, probably about as much as he was up for at that point). Man, all those years of planning, and the one thing ol' Chris Lee never considered is that someone might throw a rock at him right at the end. That's gotta sting.

I’m making fun, but the movie does have some genuinely effective disturbing sequences. The big evil orgy is notable for its unexpectedly high volume of Christoper Lee ass (IMDB breaks my heart by suggesting it’s a stunt double, but I’ll never believe it). So it’s funny and a little cheesy, but it also gets genuinely transgressive in places. There’s some pretty crazy mixing of sex, violence, and Satanism which must have been at least a little shocking at the time. Kinski keeps having visions of the fetal antichrist, which looks hilariously like a sort of ground hog puppet turned inside out – but I bet you weren’t expecting it to crawl up onto her bed in a trail of blood, demonstrate its considerable oral sex prowess on her (yes, really) and then crawl up inside her womb. That’s admirably depraved, and even if a part of your brain will never be able to not laugh at bloody rodent puppets, you’ll also have to admit it kind of gets to you on some level.

                                       Yup, not OK with that at all.

 It’s also helped by a nicely paranoid, atonal score which occasionally teams with a few tense scenes and an effective Christopher Lee to produce some commendable tension and repulsion. There’s a great sequence where Lee attempts some handy mind control via the medium of turning over plates, which would be completely ludicrous if not for the deadly serious way Lee, the music, and the cinematography sells it. Ditto a scene where Widmark goes to find Denholm Elliot, who is cowering in an attic surrounded by protective symbols and literally incoherent with fear. It’s a minor scene, but Elliot sells the character’s jibbering panic so effectively that it becomes unsettling. Scenes like that are the “I’m sorry” flowers and wine which will probably get remembered longer than the thing that needs apologizing for. That’s how these Hammer films role. Mostly pretty disappointing, but it’s the good bits that will end up sticking with you and making you dare to hope the next one will win you over.   

There’s another Hammer adaptation of Wheatley’s work starring Lee called THE DEVIL RIDES OUT, which Lee actually cites as his favorite Hammer film. God damn it, that sounds awesome. Here we go again.