Scream and Scream Again
(1970)
Dir. Gordon Hessler
Written by Christopher Wicking, based on The Disoriented
Man by Peter Saxon
Starring Alfred Marks, Michael Gothard, Vincent Price, Christopher Matthews, Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing (cameo)
SCREAM AND SCREAM AGAIN
would be more accurately called SCREAM AND SCREAM AGAIN AND THEN SCREAM A THIRD
TIME, because it’s all about threes. First, its three producers: Max
Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky of the venerable also-ran British horror house
Amicus studios being joined in this case by the equally venerable Louis Heyward
of American exploitation house AIP. Second, its three “stars” – Amicus regulars
Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, along with AIP go-to Vincent Price, probably
the three biggest marquee names in horror at the time, together for the first
time, no less! And finally, its three plots, because it begins by introducing
us to three seemingly unrelated storylines. In the first, a jogger who runs with
an unimpressively floppy form (prolific British bit player Nigel Lambert) has a
heart attack, only to wake up in a mysterious, sinister hospital where they
slowly amputate his limbs. In a second, a sadistic military officer (Marshall
Jones, CRY OF THE BANSHEE, MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE) steadily rises through the ranks in an unnamed
European dictatorship. And in the third, a no-nonsense police superintendent (Alfred
Marks, THE FRIGHTENED CITY, VALENTINO) and, I guess, an assistant coroner (Christopher
Matthews, SCARS OF DRACULA), who sort of gradually turns into the protagonist
through a process of attrition and the need for this sort of movie to have some
blandly handsome British youngsters, seek a mystery killer in a series of
apparently vampiric rape-murders. How on Earth could this all fit together?
Indeed, how could three
sets of such unusual triplets fit together? Well, the answer is that they don’t
entirely, because the movie’s a weird mess. But I confess to rather enjoying the
messy, confounding, winding journey it takes. I’ll be damned if I know what to
do with it, but give SCREAM AND SCREAM AGAIN credit for this, at least: it’s
probably not what you’re expecting. First of all, it’s really more of a
science-fiction thriller than a horror movie, despite the presence of Price,
Lee, and Cushing (and they’re not much of a presence at that; Price eventually
gets a bit to do, but Lee is a minor character and Cushing has just one
throwaway scene). But second and most importantly, it’s a pretty wild --practically
deranged!— ride, but for all the insane convolutions it takes, it
turns out there really was a discrete destination in mind the whole time.
It’s going somewhere. I’m not saying it makes sense, exactly, but
somehow the movie does sort of tie everything together at the very end. But I
do mean the very end; for the vast majority of its none-too-hurried 95
minutes, it seems like we’re watching a bunch of utterly unrelated lunacy,
three paranoid, surreal plotlines playing out completely parallel to each other
with no obvious connection of any kind.
Like many movies of the
period, it feels a bit dawdling when it would probably benefit from a breakneck
pace, and also like many movies of the period, it gets painfully bogged down in
groovy pandering to the swinging youth (two lengthy club scenes
prominently featuring a trendy British-invasion rock group --in this case Welsh
soul outfit Amen Corner). But unlike many movies of the period, it also
features the credit “police chase arranged and executed by Joe Wadham,” and for
a 1970 British B-movie, this thing’s a real doozy. It involves a diabolical
vampire date-rapist (Michael Gothard, THE DEVILS, LIFEFORCE[!!], FOR YOUR EYES
ONLY) in a red convertible sportscar (apparently a 1955 Austin-Healey 100/4)
tearing around London and the surrounding Surrey countryside with dozens of
expendable police cruisers in hot pursuit, and ends up blossoming into a
lengthy --in fact, almost comically extended-- foot chase capped with several
bouts of superpowered fisticuffs. It isn’t exactly jam-packed with jaw-dropping
stunts or eye-popping spectacle, but clocking in at close to 15 minutes of
screentime (pointedly beating BULLITT’s 10 minutes, a point of reference
clearly on its mind), it ends up building momentum out of sheer moxie. Normally
this sort of action spectacle is death for a horror movie, which thrives on tension
rather than excitement. But a few touches of grotesque weirdness
--the killer rips off his hand to escape a handcuff, and can crack a human
skull with his punches— help resolve the disconnect here. It’s classic action
cinema, but with a touch of the genuinely weird, both exciting and a little
disconcerting. It honestly makes me wonder if these two genres aren’t as mutually
incompatible as I’d always assumed.
As a fifteen-minute chase
scene tangent might suggest, the three plotlines are all a little shaggy, which
makes a little more sense when you learn that the credited author of the novel
which became the basis for SCREAM AND SCREAM AGAIN (originally titled,
appropriately, The Disoriented Man), one “Peter Saxon,” is actually a
pen named most frequently used by Irish journalist, pulp author, and editor W.
Howard Baker, but, the novel itself was apparently written primarily by fellow
pulp author Stephen Frances, with additional possible input from Martin Thomas.
All three men were veterans of the Sexton Blake detective stories which
are said to number over 4,000[!] entries, and it’s unclear which of the three,
if any, was the dominant creative force here. Several websites –all
unattributed, I’m afraid—suggest the novel was the result of a “round robin”
type writing exercise, which would obviously do much to explain its otherwise befuddlingly
unconnected trio of storylines. But whatever the explanation, each tangent affords
at least a few oddball pleasures. There’s not exactly a surplus of whammy (the gore
is infrequent, though impressively gnarly and clearly shot when it does happen),
so with Price, Lee, and Cushing only rarely on-screen, the movie must primarily
rely on its pervasive strangeness to keep engaging. Fortunately, it is indeed very,
very strange, so that works out.
How strange, you ask? Strange
enough to feel completely comfortable removing the novel’s explanation –BOOK
SPOILERS it turns out the villains are aliens! END BOOK SPOILERS —and
replacing it with… nothing. No explanation at all. It’d be pretty weird to just
throw extraterrestrial conspiracies into the mix of a movie which already contains
a vampiric car chase, but it’s even weirder to just leave it unexplained, and
that’s the kinda shit we’re rolling with here. SCREAM AND SCREAM AGAIN doesn’t
give a fuck about your pathetic need for explanation. It’s just gonna let its
freak flag fly, and you’re gonna have to deal with it. Some may find this
intolerable; me, I was kinda disappointed to hear there ever was an
explanation. I prefer the film’s satisfaction with the vague, uneasy ambiguity
of it. So the movie is definitely weird, but obviously I’m on its wavelength.
Well, mostly, anyway.
One weird thing which is less effective is the jazzy, sunny score by David
Whitaker (VAMPIRE CIRCUS) which is, one can’t help but notice, monstrously
inappropriate for such a bizarre, unsettling thriller, and does a great deal to
undermine whatever tension director Gordon Hessler (MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE)
might be building up. Not
that the movie strikes one as being impeccably planned by a master craftsman or
anything, but there’s weird which is productive, and weird which is
counterproductive, and the groovy Bond music knockoff soundtrack is probably the
latter. I might be more inclined to tolerate this kind of tomfoolery in an
Italian flick, but it’s an ungainly and awkward look for the British. Italian
genre films are the cinema of pure sensation, content to luxuriate in any sufficiently
evocative artistic element; British films, especially from the 70’s, have a
stiffer and more calculated feel, making an inappropriately funky soundtrack
feel less like an indulgence in extravagant overstimulation and more like a
misjudged attempt to feel hip. But no matter, few 70’s horror flicks, and
especially British ones, feel as wildly out-of-control and unpredictable as
SCREAM AND SCREAM AGAIN manages, and if that blurs its focus, it rarely blunts
its impact. And that’s enough to recommend it all by itself.
CHAINSAWNUKAH 2019 CHECKLIST!
For
Richer or Horror
TAGLINE
|
TRIPLE DISTILLED HORROR... as powerful as a vat of
boiling ACID! I should probably mention that yes, there
is a vat of acid in the movie.
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TITLE ACCURACY
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Completely meaningless, but that just add to its weirdo
vibe.
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LITERARY ADAPTATION?
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Yes, from the pulp novel The Disoriented Man by “Peter
Saxon” (actually some combination of W. Howard Baker, Stephen Frances,
and Martin Thomas).
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SEQUEL?
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None
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REMAKE?
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None.
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COUNTRY OF ORIGIN
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UK/USA
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HORROR SUB-GENRE
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Boy, um, gosh. Vampire, I guess? Sci-Fi Horror?
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SLUMMING A-LISTER?
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None
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BELOVED HORROR ICON?
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Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, though
none are especially prominent and Cushing in particular only has one
throwaway scene.
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NUDITY?
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My teenage self would never have believed it, but I
swear I don’t even notice anymore. Those creeps on IMDB do include “Frontal
female nudity” in their keywords, so I’ll bow to their superior collective
horniness.
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SEXUAL ASSAULT?
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Yes
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WHEN ANIMALS ATTACK!
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None
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GHOST/ ZOMBIE / HAUNTED BUILDING?
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None
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POSSESSION?
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No
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CREEPY DOLLS?
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None.
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EVIL CULT?
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No
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MADNESS?
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No
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TRANSMOGRIFICATION?
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None
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VOYEURISM?
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None
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MORAL OF THE STORY
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Gosh, um. I dunno, man, “don’t go jogging because you’ll
look like a dork and then have your limbs cut off” is about the best I can do
for you. Otherwise…
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