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Posts Tagged ‘Terence Fisher’

Jason Blum Should Helm Universal’s “Classic Monsters” Project

Thursday, June 8th, 2017

When it comes to horror films, Jason Blum is the smartest man in the room right now.

Here’s a link to a great piece by Amy Nicholson in LA Weekly on Jason Blum, the man behind Blumhouse, the most successful and prolific producer of horror films right now working in Hollywood. As she writes, “an average studio movie costs $75 million, plus another $30 million in marketing. That model is: Go big or give up on making a fortune in China. As a result, audiences moan that Hollywood has become too glossy, too bland, too costly, too safe.

There are too many superhero movies and too few of everything else. Midpriced films have vanished, those solid romantic comedies and middlebrow crowd-pleasers that kept adults happy for decades. Blum’s frighteningly successful formula argues that there’s another way to do business: Think small. Hollywood is intrigued, and it has two questions for him: How does he make movies so cheaply? And can other producers — and other genres — do the same?”

Yes, if they want to do so – and Blum will be the first to admit that not every project works out to his advantage. His production of Jem and The Holograms stiffed, but as he put it, with just a five million dollar budget – generous for Blum – “the model is, really, if everything goes wrong, we will [still] recoup.” And then there’s Whiplash, not a horror film at all, but budgeted at about $3 million, which led, of course, to La La Land.

And, of course, the most interesting and successful film, regardless of genre, of 2017: Get Out, a horror film with real social commentary. That was another $5 million film. Some of Blumhouse’s films never make it to a theater; they’re released via VOD and some just wind up hanging out in the vault, never to be released. But that’s just the minority; Blumhouse has many more hits than failures, both critically and commercially, and that makes him a definite outlier in contemporary Hollywood.

Which leads me to my main point here: Universal’s “Dark Universe” series. Frankly, I’m sick of discussing this, since there are so many other much worthier films to address, but it struck me this morning that since Universal clearly doesn’t know what to do with its most valuable intellectual property, why not give Jason a crack at it?

And the irony is – he works for Universal!

In fact, he has a unique deal in place that he can greenlight any film at all as long as the budget is $3 million or less, and then Universal gets a first look. He’s a smart person, who knows about the history of the genre, and the main figures; Val Lewton, Terence Fisher, James Whale, and all the rest. And Blum uses the key strategy of successful low budget production as one of the cornerstones of his philosophy; use one central location for 90% of the film’s narrative, and you don’t waste a lot of travel days, and cut down considerably on expenses.

Come to think of it, Hammer Films used a house/studio at Bray for their most successful films, many of them brilliant Gothic thrillers shot for a mere pittance – like Curse of Frankenstein and Horror of Dracula – so Blum is merely copying, in a sense, a very successful model. Val Lewton, even though he worked for RKO in the 1940s, did the same thing; one set for most of the scenes.

So my thought is this; instead of just doing the “Dark Universe” series of updated action films – like 2017 version of The Mummy, which is raking it in at the box office not because it’s a horror film, but because it’s a Tom Cruise action flick – Universal should initiate a “Classic Monsters Universe,” which reboots all the studio’s major horror figures in an honest and unadulterated fashion, and put Jason Blum in charge.

Keep it simple; one location, unknown actors, perhaps one star (Ethan Hawke loves to work with Blumhouse), and stick faithfully to the source material, making it a genuine horror film which ups the graphic specificity of the material – as Hammer did in the 1950s – without sacrificing the intrinsic integrity of the genre.

It would be great if this series was set off from the other Universal films with it’s own logo at the top; the Universal globe spinning into place, and as it does so, a brief montage of clips from the classic black and white horror films of the 1930s and 40s matted into the center of the screen, alerting audiences to the fact that this will be a return to the values that originally inspired Universal’s classic Gothic thrillers.

The cost – about $5 million a film – would be nothing by Hollywood standards – and Universal could keep the other “Dark Universe” series going at the same time. There’s no reason they have to conflict, since one is really a series of action movies, and the other authentic Gothic horror – and even if everything goes wrong, as Blum notes, “we will recoup.” So something to think about, since franchise films seem to have taken over the mainstream cinema so decisively; why not try something a bit edgier, with little financial risk, and see what happens?

You can read the entire interview here; fascinating stuff.

A Letter from John Carpenter on “The Thing” – January 2, 1983

Thursday, April 6th, 2017

In 1983, shortly after the release of his film The Thing, I got a letter from John Carpenter about the film.

John Carpenter‘s 1982 version of The Thing is now considered a masterpiece, something I’ve always thought, but when it first came out in the Summer of 1982, roughly at the same time as Steven Spielberg’s E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, audiences opted for the cute little Reese’s pieces eating alien over Carpenter’s relentlessly nihilistic vision of a visitor from outer space, and the film was almost universally reviled by critics – proving, once again, that when a work is ahead of its time, it can almost be assured of an uncomprehending, hostile reception.

Carpenter had argued with Universal, who produced both films, that pitting them against each other would have disastrous results, suggesting that the release be delayed to Halloween, which of course is the title of Carpenter’s iconic 1978 indie film, which was shot for roughly $300,000, and went on to gross more than $70 million worldwide. But Universal insisted on putting the two films out within weeks of each other, and Spielberg’s film took off, while Carpenter’s film languished.

As Carpenter told one interviewer about the film’s initial reception, “I take every failure hard. The one I took the hardest was The Thing. My career would have been different if that had been a big hit. I don’t think the studio knew what kind of movie they were getting. I think they wanted Alien, a crowd-pleaser. And it was way too ferocious for them. They were upset by the ending—too dark. But that’s what I wanted: Who goes there? Who are we? Which one of you is real? The movie was hated. Even by science-fiction fans. They thought that I had betrayed some kind of trust, and the piling on was insane.”

In the Fall of 1982, I was teaching film at Rutgers University, and as part of my fall class schedule, I wanted to run The Thing in 16mm CinemaScope format, but figured it was out of my budget range. Nevertheless, I called up Universal’s non-theatrical booking agency in Manhattan, chatted with a young woman there who was as enthused about the film as I was, and eventually negotiated a rental price of $100 – a fraction of the going rate – for the class screening.

At the same time, I mentioned to her how disappointed I was in the poor critical reception the film was receiving, and asked if I could have John Carpenter’s address so that I could write a letter to him in support of the film. In those much more egalitarian times, this was no problem, and she gave me Carpenter’s production company address, and I dispatched a letter to him giving my thoughts about the film, and various related topics, on December 15, 1982.

On January 2, 1983, I received a lengthy response from Carpenter, which I’ll quote most of here – with the note that for many years, I considered this letter lost, until it surfaced only a few days ago at the home of a friend in New Jersey, where apparently I had left it one evening. (Parenthetically, I’m a terrible archivist; I once had a signed letter from Orson Welles, no less, and lost that, too!)

But in any event, here is what Carpenter had to say to about the film, and horror films in general: “My favorite Gothic directors are Roman Polanski, Mario Bava (simply for style alone), George Romero, Terence Fisher and James Whale. Each of these directors brought a personality and a style to the horror film. I’ve always thought that Freddie Francis was a better Director of Photography. William Castle was more a producer / entrepreneur.

You asked me about the issue of cinematic violence, which is really, I feel, the issue of stylistic realism. Sam Peckinpah popularized the ‘too real effect’ in The Wild Bunch [1969]. Human beings don’t really die with little blood bag explosions popping out all over the place, but the effect soon became a kind of realism used widely in movies and even television; you shoot someone, you pop a couple of blood bags here and there.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and even Halloween didn’t use this stylistic realism. The brutal, sadistic killings were suggested, sparing us any enjoyment of the sadism. We’re voyeurs, true, but there’s a point to which we want to be thrashed around in that dark corner of our minds.

The Thing was a monster movie, meaning simply that the protagonist was ‘an other,’ non-human alien. I felt that in order to convince the audience that The Thing was real, stylistic realism was in order. [Special effects artist] Rob Bottin came in to me with a concept of the actual visual manifestations that seemed to coincide with the amorphous, non-evil-acting ‘otherness’ reality that had to be a part of The Thing.

Systematic inclusion of graphic violence or sex or whatever may enhance a film, or may destroy it, or simply relegate it to pornography or exploitation. [That being said], there should be no restrictions, other than the intentions of the director.

Your idea of the ‘the icon’ is a sound one. Movies carry our mythology now [emphasis added]. Boris Karloff as Frankenstein’s monster is as much as legend now as Prometheus. Perhaps The Thing could be seen as an examination of exactly what constitutes ‘humanness.’ The creature itself is just simply non-human, but like a cancer, it grows and takes us over, distorts, ravages. It isn’t gory, at least not to me.”

Carpenter closed with the thoughts that he was especially fond of the films of director Luis Buñuel, and the films The Four Skulls of Jonathan Drake, Invisible Invaders, The Big Sleep (the 1946 version, please) and Los Olvidados. I’ve always been grateful that Carpenter took the time and effort to type such a long letter in response to a total stranger at the time, and that he so carefully and perceptively articulated precisely what he was up to with The Thing, which was based on John W. Campbell Jr.’s novella Who Goes There?, and first brought to the screen by Howard Hawks as The Thing from Another World (1951).

Carpenter, of course, is a big fan of Howard Hawks, with excellent reason, and his first real feature, Assault on Precinct 13 (1976) has distinct debts to Hawks which Carpenter readily acknowledges. Hawks’ version of The Thing is a brilliant film, but it has an upbeat, optimistic ending – as all Hawks films do – as a ragtag group of dedicated survivors pull together to defeat the threat of a hostile invasion from outer space. Carpenter’s film offers no such assurances, and as such is more in tune with the noirish temper of the present day era, in which “every person for themselves first” seems to be the governing principle.

So, if you haven’t seen The Thing, do so now, but only in the proper CinemaScope ratio; in addition to Bottin’s astounding and thankfully pre-digital special effects, the actors Kurt Russell, Wilford Brimley, Richard Dysart and Keith David – superb performers all – have seldom had better roles. Then, too, Bill Lancaster‘s astonishingly bleak screenplay and dialogue for the film make a distinct contribution to the proceedings. The production of the film was by all accounts grueling, but the end result is more than worth it. And so it’s nice to see this letter again after some thirty years (!!) and have a chance to share it with the readers of this blog.

A special thanks goes out to David Dutcher, who found this letter, and sent it on – thanks, Dutch!

Alexandra Heller-Nicholas on Suspiria (1976)

Saturday, March 26th, 2016

Here’s an interesting new book on Dario Argento’s classic horror film, Suspiria.

Part of the relatively new series of short monographs on individual horror films, Devil’s Advocates, published by Auteur Press in the UK and distributed in the US by Columbia University Press, Alexandra Heller-Nicholas‘ take on Suspiria is at once original and deeply subversive, for as the notes for the volume argue, “as one of the most globally recognizable instances of 20th century Eurohorror, Dario Argento’s Suspiria (1976) is poetic, chaotic, and intriguing. The cult reputation of Argento’s baroque nightmare is reflected in the critical praise it continues to receive almost 40 years after its original release, and it appears regularly on lists of the greatest horror films ever.

For fans and critics alike, Suspiria is as mesmerizing as it is impenetrable: the impact of Argento’s notorious disinterest in matters of plot and characterization combines with Suspiria’s aggressive stylistic hyperactivity to render it a movie that needs to be experienced through the body as much as through emotion or the intellect. For its many fans, Suspiria is synonymous with European horror more broadly, and Argento himself is by far the most famous of all the Italian horror directors.

If there was any doubt of his status as one of the great horror auteurs, Argento’s international reputation was solidified well beyond the realms of cult fandom in the 1990s with retrospectives at both the American Museum of the Moving Image and the British Film Institute. This book considers the complex ways that Argento weaves together light, sound and cinema history to construct one of the most breathtaking horror movies of all time, a film as fascinating as it is ultimately unfathomable.”

This is a really sharp book, and an excellent series, which seems to take its inspiration from the long-beloved BFI series on individual film classics, but concentrating on one genre – the horror film – alone. Volumes in the series thus far include studies of the classic British horror film Dead of Night (1945 – and a particular favorite of mine), Nosferatu, The Curse of Frankenstein, John Carpenter’s version of The Thing and many others – there are so many potential candidates for examination that this series seems to be just beginning.

I’d love to see a volume on Terence Fisher’s Dracula (aka Horror of Dracula), or Roger Corman’s version of The Pit and The Pendulum, right off the top of my head, and the writers are all clearly enthusiastic about their work, so I’m sure we’ll see books on these key films shortly. Brief, compact, and authoritative, these are the volumes to beat on these classic genre films, and augur well for the continuation of the series, which seems to have really filled a niche. In any event, Alexandra Heller-Nicholas’ book on Suspiria is a good place to start – and then you can go on from there.

This is an intriguing group of short volumes – well worth exploring.

Terence Fisher and Peter Cushing On The Set

Monday, February 2nd, 2015

Peter Cushing and director Terence Fisher on the set of Frankenstein Created Woman in 1966.

This completely silent, unedited, straight-from-the-camera newsreel footage from British Pathé News documents a day’s work on one of the last first-rate Hammer horror films, and one of the last Hammer films shot at Bray Studios, Windsor, Berkshire, where the company created some of their greatest Gothic thrillers in the late 1950s up to the mid 1960s. There’s really little more to say; we see Cushing in the beginning posing for the camera, ostensibly going over his script; greeting actor Susan Denberg; and then on set with Thorley Walters and director Fisher (above, right) during shooting.

Fisher, as was always his habit, kept a very low profile on the set, gently coaxing the actors through the script while at the same time quietly and efficiently fighting the clock to comply with Hammer’s legendarily frugal shooting schedules. I wish there was more of this material, but at least we have this – there’s a commercial in front of it, it seems, but there’s nothing I can do about that. Nice to see Fisher and Cushing in color, working on one of their last truly successful films, though even here, it was spoiled by producer interference when a plot element was added that didn’t fit in with the overall material – but that’s another story.

Click here, or on the image above, to see this short silent newsreel.

Essay on Fisher’s To The Public Danger (1948) by David Cairns

Sunday, November 23rd, 2014

Here’s another Terence Fisher film worthy of a second look – if you know it at all.

Well, having just discussed the restoration of The Devil Rides Out, up pops another Fisher rarity. In my book length study of Terence Fisher, The Charm of Evil, I devote considerable space to this deeply undervalued film, which was Fisher’s second directorial effort after his debut “curtain raiser,” Colonel Bogey. When I wrote that book, I had to travel to the British Film Institute to see a 35mm print of the film; now, here it is on YouTube, in a very good version, too.

It was posted there by David Cairns, who also wrote an essay on the film for Mubi, which notes in part that “1948 was one of the great years of British film, with Powell & Pressburger, David Lean and others on top form. Terence Fisher, later to make his name at Hammer (Curse of Frankenstein, Horror of Dracula, etc.) was only just beginning his career, but he began it well: soon he would co-direct the gripping Hitchcockian yarn So Long at the Fair (1950), but before that came 40-minute short subject To the Public Danger, a thriller revolving around drunk driving.

As four characters meet in an English roadhouse and begin the kind of inebriate evening people fresh from WWII seemed to take in their strides, recklessness and arrogance leads towards inevitable doom, with the boozing accompanied by bullying, seduction, class prejudice, cowardice, paranoia and a slew of other unattractive qualities. The result is not so much mounting tension as an oppressive, agonizing sense of suffocating anxiety and unpleasantness.

This is the world of writer Patrick Hamilton, specialist in psychological torment (Gaslight), nerve-shredding anxiety (Rope) and alcoholic madness (Hangover Square). Few other writers can abuse their protagonists, and their public, with such merciless cruelty, while displaying at the same time a pained compassion for life’s victims.

To the Public Danger is adapted from a BBC radio play by Hamilton, and abounds in sharply-drawn detail, mostly delivered as dialogue: it must have made a gripping listen, and if the film has a flaw, it’s that nearly every effect is achieved by sound and voice. Still, Fisher serves up some nice nocturnal joyriding, all via rear projection of course, but with some intense low angles from under the steering wheel.

The premise may make the film sound like a Public Information film about highway safety, and it does have a socially redeeming function, but derives its power from the vicious interplay of its quartet of dysfunctional character.

Dermot Walsh is the loathsome Captain Cole, ex-army snob, manic boozer and bully; Susan Shaw is the beautiful blonde with a heart of brass; Barry Letts her milquetoast mark who must locate his backbone amidst the drunken maelstrom; and Roy Plomley the utterly sloshed Reggie, whose main contribution is adding to the general confusion. The script very sharply delineates their varied reactions to an apparent hit-and-run accident during which Shaw was holding the wheel while Walsh, in the driving seat, was lighting a cigarette . . .

Fisher’s style tended to be straightforward, blunt, at times crude, suiting him to Hammer’s penny dreadful approach. While British cinema was supposed to favor restraint and discretion, Fisher dealt with things head-on, however unpleasant. The impressionistic flurries of montage with which he suggests car accidents here, all screaming and flash-cuts and onrushing trees, suggests the savagery that would eventually birth Christopher Lee’s mush-faced Frankenstein creature, looking, as one reviewer wrote, ‘like a road accident.'”

This is another remarkable film that deserves more attention; see it by clicking here, or on the image above.

Terence Fisher’s The Devil Rides Out (1968) Out Restored at Last!

Sunday, November 23rd, 2014

I must admit I missed the initial release of this restoration, but I’m glad I found it now.

The Devil Rides Out, known as The Devil’s Bride in the US, is perhaps Terence Fisher’s last unalloyed masterpiece, and a film whose reputation has grown exponentially over the years since its 1968 release. Based on the novel by Dennis Wheatley, and as Wikipedia notes, “set in London and the south of England in 1929, the story finds Nicholas, Duc de Richleau [Christopher Lee], investigating the strange actions of the son of a friend, Simon Aron [Patrick Mower], who has a house complete with strange markings and a pentagram.

He quickly deduces that Simon is involved with the Occult. Nicholas de Richleau and Rex Van Ryn [Leon Greene, dubbed throughout the film by Patrick Allen] manage to rescue Simon and another young initiate, Tanith [Niké Arrighi], from a devil-worshipping cult. During the rescue they disrupt a ceremony on Salisbury Plain in which the Devil (Baphomet) himself appears.

They escape to the home of Richard and Marie Eaton [Paul Eddington and Sarah Lawson], friends of Richleau and Van Ryn, and are followed by the group’s leader, Mocata [Charles Gray, in a career-defining performance], who has a psychic connection to the two initiates. After visiting the house to discuss the matter and an unsuccessful attempt to influence the initiates to return, Mocata forces Richleau and the other occupants to defend themselves through a night of black magic attacks, ending with the conjuring of the angel of death.

Richleau is able to repel the angel, but it kills Tanith instead (as once summoned, it must take a life). His attacks defeated, Mocata kidnaps the Eatons’ daughter Peggy [Rosalyn Landor]. The Duc has Tanith’s spirit possess Peggy’s mother in order to find Mocata, but they are only able to get a single clue, from which Rex realizes that the cultists are at a house he visited earlier.

Simon tries to rescue Peggy on his own, but is recaptured by the cult. The Duc, Richard, and Peggy’s family, also try to rescue her, but they are defeated by Mocata. Suddenly, a powerful force (or Tanith herself) begins ruling Mrs. Eaton and puts a stop to Peggy’s trance.

She then leads Peggy in the recitation of a spell, which kills all of the cultists and transforms their coven room into a church. When the Duc and his companions awaken, then they discover that the spell Peggy was led into casting has reversed time and changed the future in their favor.

Simon and Tanith have survived, while Mocata’s spell to conjure the angel of death has been reflected back on him. Now, he pays the price of loss of life and eternal damnation of his soul for having wrongly summoned the angel of death. Nicholas de Richleau comments that it is God that they must be thankful for.”

I’ve admired this film for a long time, both as one of Hammer’s best works, and one of the most intelligent, but despite the customary brilliance of Fisher’s direction and Arthur Grant’s superb cinematography, by this time, Hammer was struggling with pressing financial concerns, and the quality of the studio’s films was declining precipitously as a result.

There are shots in the film involving special effects that were left unfinished; uneven matte lines in some the miniature sequences; and the film’s climactic sequence, involving the appearance of the Angel of Death, has always been problematic from a strictly visual point of view – indeed, during a close-up of the the Angel’s head, the background behind the shot in simply a blue screen, without any image at all – a clear compromise in the face of time and budgetary constrictions.

Thus I was both pleased and surprised that Hammer would undertake nothing less than the rescue of this film, performing more than 1.5 million — that’s right, million — repairs to the original 35mm negative, by scanning to 4K digital, and then creating a 2K DVD and Blu-ray master of the result. Since the performances throughout the film are absolutely impeccable, it’s only right that the last minute haste of then-contemporary post-production should be corrected.

As one of Fisher’s most deeply felt and personal films – and a profoundly Christian film in every sense of the word, concerned with the continual battle between good and evil in the world, The Devil Rides Out stands as one of the key works of the British cinema in the late 1960s, and still speaks to audiences today. Indeed, just this semester one of my students did a research paper on Terence Fisher, and of all of the director’s works, singled this film out as her favorite. If you haven’t seen it, you should really take a look.

You can see a featurette on the restoration of The Devil Rides Out by clicking here, or on the image above.

The Black Glove aka Face The Music (1954)

Tuesday, April 8th, 2014

The Black Glove is a 1954 British film noir directed by Terence Fisher.

For no particular reason, my mind turns this morning towards this underappreciated, but happily available on DVD thriller, set in London, as a Hammer Films /Robert Lippert UK/US co-production. A jazz trumpeter is involved in a murder mystery, and has to clear himself; the film is distinguished by its tough guy dialogue, excellent location shooting in the heart of London’s Soho district, and superb black and white cinematography by the gifted James Harvey. The lead is Alex Nicol, above right, a nice guy who never achieved super stardom, but whom I had the great pleasure of interviewing, and who told truly fabulous stories about old Hollywood; the woman is Eleanor Summerfield, who also never broke through to “A” level status, but who was a reliable leading lady in hardboiled melodramas in the 1940s and 50s.

The Black Glove, titled Face The Music in the UK, is one a of a group of noirs produced by Hammer Films in England during the 1950s, many of which – like this film – were directed by Terence Fisher, who would go on later in his career to become the foremost Gothic filmmaker of the second half of the 20th century with such films as Horror of Dracula (known simply as Dracula in the UK; 1958), the first Dracula film in Technicolor, with a career-defining performance by Christopher Lee as the title character. The Black Glove is certainly less ambitious than Fisher’s later work for Hammer, but it effectively captures the world-weariness of Post War Europe with such dialogue as “this didn’t look like a safe place to take your mother. In fact, it looked like a place you leave horizontally or not at all.”

All in all, worth a look; another film that seems to have been forgotten in film history.

The Astonished Heart

Tuesday, June 19th, 2012

Click here, or on the image above, for some clips from The Astonished Heart.

Many years ago, I ran off a 16mm print of Terence Fisher‘s film of The Astonished Heart, written by and starring Noël Coward, for some friends in my office, and we were all struck by seriousness and intensity of the film, which has, to this day, a rather indifferent reputation. I just saw it again, and although it belongs to a different century, and a different society altogether — so much has changed — the essential veracity of the piece remains intact. I was surprised to discover that the Film Society of Lincoln Center apparently agreed, for they screened the film this past May 11th, 2012 in 35mm format; I’m sorry I missed it.

Here are their program notes, in part: “another adaptation (like Brief Encounter) from the Tonight at 8:30 cycle [of Coward’s plays], The Astonished Heart also marked the last time Coward played a leading role on film. Originally, Michael Redgrave was cast as psychiatrist Christian Faber and actually began filming in June, 1949. Coward saw the rushes and wasn’t happy. He decided he should play the part himself and was relieved when he discussed it with Redgrave, who agreed [. . .] Faber is married to Celia Johnson (Brief Encounter) but becomes infatuated with her friend (Margaret Leighton) [The film] is an opportunity to see Coward and his “family”—longtime companion Graham Payn and muse Joyce Carey—playing together one last time. Towards the end of his life, Coward would refer to “poor old Astonished Heart. I should love to see it again, just to see if it really is as bad as they said it was.” And of course, it wasn’t—it just happened to come at a time when, in England, Coward could do nothing right as far as the critics were concerned. On the Continent, it became a cult film . . .” And eventually the film was rediscovered in England, as well, and re-evaluated as being something more than a misfire.

Coward’s leading role in the film, it turns out, was necessitated by the need to pay some back taxes Coward suddenly discovered that he owed; his salary for the leading role of The Astonished Heart would just pay off the amount due. Reports to the contrary, Coward had no artistic quarrel with Redgrave; he just needed the money, right away.  When Redgrave was dismissed, he was paid his salary in full, thus pushing the film over-budget in both time and money. Thus, when shooting recommenced, it was done at a very rapid clip indeed, to keep the film from spiraling financially out of control altogether.

Coward also composed the music for the film, in addition to doing the screenplay, while Terence Fisher, later a star for Hammer Films, supposedly co-directed the film with Anthony (aka Antony) Darnborough, though those who knew Darnborough, who produced the film, said later that this co-direction credit was more “honorary” than anything else. I heartily agree; one can see Fisher’s guiding hand in every frame.

What ultimately distinguishes The Astonished Heart is that it’s a resolutely personal enterprise; even if Coward took over the lead for purely mercenary reasons, his portrayal of the anguished psychiatrist is both unsettling and altogether believable. The music is his, the screenplay is his, the source material is his, and he’s the lead — introduced, incidentally, only about 15 minutes into the brief 85 minute film, which is more than 95% told in flashback. Viewing it again, I can’t seen anyone else playing the role, not even the immensely talented Michael Redgrave; this was Coward’s part alone, one that he created, and understood, and the results are quite extraordinary.

The Astonished Heart is out on Region 2 DVD in an acceptable transfer; you should see it for yourself; it’s quite an impressive piece of work.

Hammer Studios Restores Its Classic Films

Thursday, January 19th, 2012

Bray Studios, for many years the home of Hammer Films.

Click on the image above to go to Hammer’s official website.

Hammer Films, arguably the most important studio in the history of Gothic horror films, and home to directors Terence Fisher, Freddie Francis, Val Guest and many others, has begun an ambitious plan to bring their many of the classic films in their archive into the Blu-ray era, working in conjunction with Studiocanal and others. As Nancy Tartaglione-Moore reports, “legendary horror studio Hammer has announced a global restoration project for its library of films. In partnership with Studiocanal, Pinewood and other international players, more than 30 films will be revamped in HD for Blu-ray and other new media supports. Hammer’s original U.S. production partners, 20th Century Fox, Warner Bros and Paramount, are also participating in the project. The first title to be released is Dracula Prince Of Darkness, which will go out in March in the UK. The studio was founded in 1934 and went on to make such titles as The Plague Of The Zombies, Frankenstein Created Woman, The Witches and The Mummy. Since 2008, it’s been a division of the Exclusive Media Group. After ceasing production in the 1980s, Hammer returned to features in 2010 with Matt Reeves’ adaptation of Swedish hit Let Me In. This year, it will release Daniel Radcliffe-starrer The Woman In Black.”

Excellent news! You can read the entire story by clicking right here.

Don Sharp, Last of the Classic British Gothic Filmmakers

Monday, December 19th, 2011

Don Sharp, director of a series of lavish and tastefully brutal horror films for Hammer Productions in the 1960s, has died at the age of 89. No cause for grief here; Sharp had a long and varied career. He worked with such actors as Deborah Kerr, Vanessa Redgrave, Donald Sutherland and Lee Remick on numerous projects, and was really a jack of all trades in the film business.

Still, as Dave Rattigan points out in the Gather website, “fans of Sharp’s era in British filmmaking, especially Hammer horror afficianados, will rue his passing as one more of the old school sadly dying off, leaving few stalwarts behind. Don Sharp belongs up there with names such as Terence Fisher (Dracula, Prince of Darkness), Freddie Francis (Dracula Has Risen from the Grave) and Roy Ward Baker (Quatermass and the Pit) as one of the legends of the British Gothic horror genre.” Fisher, Francis — a dear friend of mine — and Baker are all gone now; if you click on the links above, you’ll see clips from some of their Hammer films.

The poster above is from Kiss of the Vampire, one of Sharp’s most accomplished films; click here, or on the image above  to see a clip from the film itself, which was heavily censored upon its initial release, and still plays in cut form — in some cases — on television to this day.

About the Author

Headshot of Wheeler Winston Dixon Wheeler Winston Dixon, Ryan Professor of Film Studies at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, is an internationally recognized scholar and writer of film history, theory and criticism. He is the author of thirty books and more than 100 articles on film, and appears regularly in national media outlets discussing film and culture trends. Frame by Frame is a collection of his thoughts on a number of those topics. All comments by Dixon on this blog are his own opinions.

In The National News

Wheeler Winston Dixon has been quoted by Fast Company, The New Yorker, The New York Times, the BBC, CNN, The Christian Science Monitor, US News and World Report, The Boston Globe, Entertainment Weekly, The Los Angeles Times, NPR, The PBS Newshour, USA Today and other national media outlets on digital cinema, film and related topics - see the UNL newsroom at http://news.unl.edu/news-releases/1/ for more details.

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