• About
  • podcasts
  • Shop

Surgeons of Horror

~ Dissecting horror films

Surgeons of Horror

Tag Archives: Vincent Price

The Oblong Box: Vincent Price and AIP’s Gothic Farewell to Poe

23 Friday May 2025

Posted by surgeons of horror in retrospective

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

1960s horror, 1960s retrospective, AIP, christopher lee, christopher wicking, Edgar Allan Poe, george hessler, Vincent Price

Gordon Hessler’s somber, atmospheric horror marks a transitional moment as American International Pictures’ Poe cycle edges toward a darker, more violent future.

By the end of the 1960s, the gothic horror cycle popularized by American International Pictures was showing distinct signs of wear. Lavish yet increasingly formulaic, the once-groundbreaking Vincent Price/Edgar Allan Poe collaborations — most notably directed by Roger Corman — had set a high-water mark earlier in the decade. The Oblong Box, directed by Gordon Hessler and released in 1969, represents both a continuation and a mutation of that tradition: a film steeped in the tropes audiences had come to expect, but tinged with a harsher, more morbid tone reflective of the cultural shifts at the end of the decade.

Although marketed heavily as another Poe adaptation, The Oblong Box in fact has little to do with the author’s original short story, borrowing only the title and the general theme of premature burial. Nevertheless, its atmosphere — a decadent English estate rotting under the weight of ancestral sins — fits neatly into the aesthetic universe cultivated by AIP’s earlier Poe pictures. Vincent Price, ever the consummate performer, slips comfortably into the role of Julian Markham, a man haunted by familial guilt and constrained by social appearances. Price’s presence alone is enough to anchor the film in the familiar tradition of velvet-draped madness and doomed legacies.

However, The Oblong Box also marks a departure from the more theatrical, florid excesses of Corman’s earlier works. Hessler, stepping into the director’s chair after Michael Reeves’ untimely death and dissatisfaction from AIP’s executives, brings a colder, more clinical eye to the material. The film’s violence is more explicit; its themes — colonial guilt, fratricide, exploitation — emerge less as melodramatic devices and more as genuinely disturbing undercurrents. It is a film less concerned with Poe’s romanticised morbidity than with a burgeoning appetite for psychological and physical horror.

Christopher Wicking’s screenplay weaves in an uneasy undercurrent of imperialist critique, with the disfigured Sir Edward (played in part by Alister Williamson, though Price’s star power overshadows him) embodying the physical and moral consequences of colonial exploitation. The masked figure, red cloak swirling in the night as he seeks revenge, foreshadows the more explicit grotesqueries that would dominate British and European horror into the 1970s.

While The Oblong Box does not reach the stylistic heights of earlier Corman-Poe entries like The Masque of the Red Death or The Pit and the Pendulum, it nonetheless offers a compelling portrait of a genre — and a studio — in transition. Hessler’s film is handsomely mounted, if at times unevenly paced, and buoyed significantly by Price’s unerring ability to balance camp and gravitas. His Julian Markham is neither pure villain nor misunderstood hero, but a man slowly being devoured by forces he can no longer control, much like the American International Pictures horror line itself, inching toward its inevitable decline.

The Prognosis:

The Oblong Box stands as a fascinating artifact: a twilight entry that hints at both the glories of AIP’s earlier successes and the darker, less forgiving horror that the 1970s would embrace. It is not the purest distillation of Price’s talents nor Poe’s nightmarish imagination, but it remains a solemn, atmospheric bridge between eras — a coffin-laden corridor leading toward the more brutal horrors to come.

  • 1960s retrospective review by Saul Muerte

Witchfinder General (1968): A Haunting Swan Song of Horror and History

18 Saturday Jan 2025

Posted by surgeons of horror in retrospective

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

1960s horror, 1960s retrospective, ian ogilvy, Vincent Price, witch hunt, witchfinder

Michael Reeves’ Witchfinder General stands as a stark and unsettling masterpiece, a final testament to a director whose talent was tragically cut short. Released in 1968, the film is a harrowing depiction of societal decay and unchecked authority, channeling the horrors of the real-life atrocities committed by Matthew Hopkins, the self-proclaimed “Witchfinder General” during England’s tumultuous Civil War period. Though Reeves’ career spanned only a handful of films, this work solidified his place among horror cinema’s most daring voices.

At just 25 years old, Michael Reeves displayed an incredible aptitude for crafting atmospheric and thought-provoking horror. Witchfinder General was to be his magnum opus, blending historical commentary with visceral terror. Tragically, Reeves passed away shortly after the film’s release, leaving audiences to ponder what other groundbreaking works might have followed. His death remains one of cinema’s greatest losses, as his potential seemed boundless.

In Witchfinder General, Reeves strips away the gothic flourishes typical of the genre and instead presents a raw, unflinching portrayal of human cruelty. The stark cinematography captures the bleak English countryside, juxtaposing its beauty with the barbarity of Hopkins’ actions. The result is a film as much about historical tragedy as it is about psychological horror.

Vincent Price, an icon of horror cinema, was cast as Matthew Hopkins, a choice that initially caused friction between actor and director. Reeves reportedly clashed with Price, believing the veteran actor’s tendency toward theatricality would undermine the film’s grounded tone. The young director pushed Price to deliver a restrained and sinister performance, resulting in one of the actor’s most chilling portrayals. The tension between Reeves and Price ultimately birthed an unforgettable characterisation—Hopkins is a cold, calculating predator, wielding religious authority as a weapon for personal gain.

Price later acknowledged that Reeves had pushed him to new creative heights, and their contentious collaboration is now seen as pivotal in achieving the film’s haunting power. Hopkins’ quiet menace, a testament to both Reeves’ direction and Price’s adaptability.

Set against the backdrop of the English Civil War, Witchfinder General uses its historical setting to comment on the fragility of societal order. The film portrays a country in chaos, where Hopkins exploits fear and superstition to enrich himself and indulge his sadism. Reeves’ depiction of mob mentality and the abuse of power resonates beyond its 17th-century setting, serving as a scathing critique of authority figures who exploit vulnerable communities.

The historical Matthew Hopkins’ reign of terror saw countless innocents tortured and executed under the guise of purging witchcraft. Reeves does not shy away from the brutality of these acts, presenting them with unflinching realism. The film’s violence shocked audiences upon release and remains deeply unsettling, underscoring the horrors that can arise when societal structures collapse.

Despite its troubled production and initial controversy, Witchfinder General has endured as a landmark in horror cinema. It is frequently cited as one of the most significant British horror films, and its influence can be seen in subsequent works that blend historical settings with social commentary. The film’s unrelenting tone and moral ambiguity challenge viewers to confront the darker aspects of human nature.

Michael Reeves’ swan song is both a powerful artistic statement and a sobering reminder of his unrealised potential. With Witchfinder General, he crafted a film that transcends the horror genre, embedding itself in the annals of cinematic history as a chilling exploration of power, fear, and humanity’s capacity for cruelty. While we can only speculate on what might have come next, Reeves’ legacy endures through this extraordinary work.

  • Saul Muerte

The Masque of the Red Death (1964): A Gothic Gem with Some Tarnish

17 Saturday Aug 2024

Posted by surgeons of horror in retrospective

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Edgar Allan Poe, nicolas roeg, roger corman, the masque of red death, Vincent Price

Roger Corman’s The Masque of the Red Death (1964), featuring the incomparable Vincent Price, is an adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s chilling short story. This film, known for its rich Gothic atmosphere and striking visuals, is often celebrated for its ambition and stylistic flair. However, despite its strengths, it has its share of shortcomings that prevent it from reaching the heights of other Corman-Price collaborations.

The film’s plot revolves around the tyrannical Prince Prospero (Vincent Price), who retreats to his castle with a group of nobles to escape the deadly Red Death plague ravaging the countryside. Within the castle’s opulent walls, Prospero indulges in decadent and cruel festivities, believing himself immune to the horrors outside. As the plague encroaches and the masked figure of the Red Death makes its ominous appearance, Prospero’s delusions of grandeur and invincibility are challenged.

Vincent Price, in one of his most memorable roles, delivers a performance that is both sinister and charismatic. His portrayal of Prospero as a sadistic and morally bankrupt nobleman is captivating, adding depth and nuance to a character that could easily have been one-dimensional. Price’s commanding presence and distinctive voice elevate the film, making his scenes the most compelling.

The film’s visual style is one of its standout features. Cinematographer Nicolas Roeg, who would later become a renowned director, brings a lush and vivid palette to the screen. The use of color, particularly in the various rooms of Prospero’s castle, symbolizes different aspects of human experience and emotion, enhancing the film’s thematic depth. The art direction and set design also contribute to the film’s rich Gothic aesthetic, creating a world that is both beautiful and foreboding.

However, The Masque of the Red Death is not without its flaws. The pacing can be uneven, with certain sections feeling overly drawn out and lacking in momentum. Some of the supporting performances are less convincing, and the dialogue occasionally veers into melodrama. These issues detract from the overall impact of the film, making it less cohesive than it could have been.

Despite these drawbacks, the film’s conclusion is powerful and thought-provoking. The inevitable arrival of the Red Death within the castle walls serves as a stark reminder of the futility of attempting to escape one’s fate. This key message, underscored by Price’s chilling final scenes, resonates strongly with audiences and reinforces the film’s central themes of mortality and hubris.

The Masque of the Red Death is one of several adaptations of Poe’s works by Roger Corman, who helmed other notable films like The Fall of the House of Usher (1960) and The Pit and the Pendulum (1961). While it may not reach the heights of these earlier efforts, it remains a significant entry in the canon of Gothic horror films.

The Prognosis:

The Masque of the Red Death is a visually stunning and thematically rich film that showcases Vincent Price at his best. Its flaws, while notable, do not overshadow its merits entirely. For fans of Gothic horror and Poe adaptations, it is a film worth watching, if only to witness Price’s masterful performance and Roeg’s captivating cinematography.

  • Saul Muerte

The Last Man on Earth (1964): A Mixed Adaptation of a Sci-Fi Classic

16 Friday Aug 2024

Posted by surgeons of horror in retrospective

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

1960s horror, 1960s retrospective, i am legend, richard matheson, Vincent Price

The Last Man on Earth (1964), directed by Ubaldo Ragona and Sidney Salkow, is the first film adaptation of Richard Matheson’s seminal 1954 novel, I Am Legend. Starring the legendary Vincent Price, the film presents a bleak vision of a world ravaged by a plague that turns humans into vampiric creatures. While the movie has its merits, it also falls short in several areas, leading to a mixed reception that persists to this day.

The plot follows Dr. Robert Morgan (Vincent Price), the apparent sole survivor of a global pandemic that has transformed the population into nightmarish, undead beings. By day, Morgan methodically hunts these creatures and works on a cure, while by night, he barricades himself in his home, fending off the relentless attacks of the infected.

Vincent Price, known for his distinctive voice and charismatic presence, delivers a solid performance as Morgan. However, his casting was a point of contention for Richard Matheson, the novel’s author. Matheson, who initially adapted his own work for the screen under the pseudonym Logan Swanson, was reportedly dissatisfied with Price’s portrayal, feeling that it did not capture the everyman quality he envisioned for the character. This misalignment between the author’s vision and the final product is one of the film’s notable shortcomings.

The film’s atmosphere is one of its strongest aspects. Shot in stark black-and-white, The Last Man on Earth effectively conveys a sense of desolation and hopelessness. The empty streets and decaying urban landscapes create a haunting backdrop for Morgan’s lonely existence. The minimalist approach to the horror elements, focusing more on psychological dread than overt scares, sets it apart from many other films of its time.

Despite these strengths, the film struggles with pacing and execution. The narrative can feel sluggish, particularly in the middle sections, where Morgan’s daily routine is depicted in a repetitive manner. Additionally, some of the special effects and make-up work, though innovative for their time, have not aged well, detracting from the film’s overall impact.

The Last Man on Earth is only one of several adaptations of Matheson’s novel. It was followed by The Omega Man (1971), starring Charlton Heston, which took a more action-oriented approach to the story, and I Am Legend (2007), featuring Will Smith, which leaned heavily on CGI and modern horror tropes. Each version brings its own interpretation to the source material, but none have managed to fully capture the essence of Matheson’s original vision.

The film’s key message revolves around isolation and the human struggle for survival in the face of overwhelming despair. Morgan’s battle against both the external threat of the infected and his own internal demons reflects a universal theme of resilience and the quest for meaning in a seemingly meaningless world.

The Prognosis:

The Last Man on Earth is a film of contrasts. It boasts a memorable performance by Vincent Price and a hauntingly effective atmosphere, but it is also hampered by pacing issues and miscasting concerns. While it may not be the definitive adaptation of Matheson’s I Am Legend, it remains an intriguing and significant entry in the history of science fiction and horror cinema.

  • Saul Muerte

Comedy of Terrors (1963): A Macabre Comedy with Mixed Results

28 Sunday Jul 2024

Posted by surgeons of horror in retrospective

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

basil rathbone, beverly powers, Boris Karloff, jacques tourneur, joe e brown, joyce jameson, peter lorre, the comedy of terrors, Vincent Price

In 1963, director Jacques Tourneur, known for his masterful work in horror classics like Cat People and I Walked with a Zombie, ventured into the realm of macabre comedy with Comedy of Terrors. With a stellar cast featuring Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, Boris Karloff, Joyce Jameson, Joe E. Brown, Beverly Powers, and Basil Rathbone, the film had all the ingredients for a standout success. Despite these great collaborators, the results were mixed, serving up a middle-of-the-road affair.

Tourneur’s direction is one of the film’s highlights. His ability to blend horror and comedy is evident throughout, as he deftly balances the eerie atmosphere with moments of dark humor. The film’s Gothic aesthetic, combined with Tourneur’s knack for creating suspense, provides a visually engaging experience. However, even his expertise couldn’t entirely elevate the uneven script.

The cast is undoubtedly the film’s strongest asset. Vincent Price, in particular, shines as the unscrupulous undertaker Waldo Trumbull. His performance is delightfully over-the-top, capturing the character’s malevolence and wit with equal flair. Peter Lorre, as the downtrodden assistant Felix Gillie, complements Price perfectly, bringing a touch of pathos to the comedic duo.

Boris Karloff, as the senile Amos Hinchley, provides a charming performance that showcases his versatility beyond the typical horror roles he’s known for. Basil Rathbone, playing the perpetually “dying” Mr. Black, adds a layer of sophistication and humor, particularly with his repeated recitations of Shakespearean lines. Joyce Jameson, Joe E. Brown, and Beverly Powers round out the cast, each delivering solid performances that contribute to the film’s quirky charm.

Despite the impressive cast and Tourneur’s direction, Comedy of Terrors struggles with an inconsistent tone and pacing. The script, while filled with witty dialogue and humorous situations, sometimes feels disjointed, leading to a film that doesn’t quite know whether it wants to lean more into horror or comedy. This indecisiveness hampers the overall impact, resulting in a film that feels middling rather than memorable.

The macabre humor, while effective in parts, doesn’t always hit the mark. Some jokes land perfectly, eliciting genuine laughs, while others fall flat, leaving a sense of missed potential. The film’s structure, relying heavily on repetitive gags, can become tiresome, diluting the effectiveness of the comedy.

In retrospect, Comedy of Terrors is a film that showcases the immense talent of its cast and director but ultimately delivers mixed results. The collaboration of such legendary figures in the horror and comedy genres should have resulted in a classic, yet the film remains a curious blend of brilliance and mediocrity. It’s a testament to the performers’ skills that even in a middle-of-the-road affair, their charisma and talent shine through.

For fans of the genre and the actors involved, Comedy of Terrors offers enough moments of enjoyment to warrant a viewing. It stands as a fascinating, if flawed, entry in the filmographies of those who worked on it, providing a glimpse of what could have been a standout macabre comedy with a bit more refinement.

  • Saul Muerte

Twice Told Tales (1963): A Lackluster Journey Through Hawthorne’s Stories

25 Thursday Jul 2024

Posted by surgeons of horror in retrospective

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

nathaniel hawthorne, robert e kent, sidney salkow, twice told tales, Vincent Price

In the realm of classic horror anthologies, Twice Told Tales (1963) is a film that unfortunately doesn’t quite hit the mark. Directed by Sidney Salkow, this adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s stories stars Vincent Price, a legend in the horror genre. While the premise of bringing Hawthorne’s eerie tales to life is promising, the execution leaves much to be desired.

The film comprises three segments: “Dr. Heidegger’s Experiment,” “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” and “The House of the Seven Gables.” Each story is meant to delve into the supernatural and explore themes of obsession, betrayal, and dark secrets. However, despite the intriguing source material, the film struggles to maintain a compelling narrative throughout its runtime.

One of the most noticeable issues is the pacing. Each segment drags on longer than necessary, diminishing the suspense and tension that should be building. Instead of gripping the audience, the stories meander, making it difficult to stay engaged. The dialogue, while attempting to stay true to Hawthorne’s style, often comes across as stilted and overly melodramatic, further pulling viewers out of the experience.

Vincent Price, usually a commanding presence, seems somewhat underutilized in this film. His performances, while competent, lack the flair and intensity that he is known for. The supporting cast, including Sebastian Cabot and Beverly Garland, do their best with the material, but their efforts are hampered by the film’s overall lack of energy and direction.

Visually, Twice Told Tales fails to create the atmospheric dread one might expect from Hawthorne’s works. The sets and special effects are modest at best, often appearing more like stage props than elements of a haunting narrative. This, combined with uninspired cinematography, results in a film that looks dated even by the standards of the early 60s.

The thematic depth of Hawthorne’s stories, which delve into the complexities of human nature and moral dilemmas, is largely lost in translation. The film opts for a more straightforward horror approach, stripping away much of the nuance that makes the original tales so compelling. As a result, what could have been a thought-provoking anthology feels more like a series of missed opportunities.

In conclusion, Twice Told Tales (1963) is a film that falls short of its potential. Despite the presence of Vincent Price and the rich source material, the movie is hampered by poor pacing, lackluster visuals, and an overall sense of mediocrity. While it may hold some nostalgic value for fans of classic horror, it ultimately serves as a reminder that not all literary adaptations can capture the magic of their written counterparts.

  • Saul Muerte

“The Haunted Palace (1963): A Gothic Fusion of Poe and Lovecraft with Price and Chaney”

20 Saturday Jul 2024

Posted by surgeons of horror in retrospective

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Edgar Allan Poe, Lon Chaney Jr, roger corman, the haunted palace, Vincent Price

The Haunted Palace (1963), directed by Roger Corman and starring Vincent Price, is one of the eight collaborations inspired by the works of Edgar Allan Poe. While the film has its moments of atmospheric dread and solid performances, it doesn’t quite reach the heights of some of the duo’s more celebrated works. Nonetheless, it remains a noteworthy entry in the Corman-Price-Poe canon, primarily due to its cast and the unique blend of Poe’s and H.P. Lovecraft’s influences.

Roger Corman and Vincent Price teamed up to create a series of films loosely based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe, and The Haunted Palace stands out as an interesting deviation from the formula. While the title and promotional material suggest a Poe adaptation, the film is actually based on H.P. Lovecraft’s novella The Case of Charles Dexter Ward. This blending of Poe’s gothic sensibilities with Lovecraft’s cosmic horror provides a unique, though somewhat uneven, narrative experience.

Corman’s direction, as always, is efficient and atmospheric, making the most of the limited budget. The film’s set design and use of color contribute to its eerie ambiance, creating a suitably oppressive atmosphere. However, the film’s pacing occasionally falters, with moments of tension undercut by slower, less engaging scenes.

Vincent Price delivers a dual performance as Charles Dexter Ward and his malevolent ancestor, Joseph Curwen. Price’s portrayal of Curwen is particularly compelling, showcasing his ability to embody both charm and menace. His performance is the film’s anchor, providing a sense of continuity and gravitas even when the narrative wavers.

The inclusion of Lon Chaney Jr. adds another layer of interest to the film. Chaney, known for his significant contributions to horror cinema, brings a sense of gravitas to his role as Simon Orne, Curwen’s loyal servant. His presence serves as a reminder of the film’s roots in classic horror, bridging the gap between the golden age of monster movies and the more psychological horror that Corman and Price were known for.

The Haunted Palace excels in creating a visually rich and atmospheric experience. The gothic sets, combined with the moody cinematography, evoke a sense of dread that is characteristic of Corman’s best work. The film’s exploration of themes like ancestral guilt and the supernatural aligns well with Poe’s literary legacy, even as it diverges into Lovecraftian territory.

However, the film’s narrative structure is less successful. The fusion of Poe and Lovecraft results in a story that sometimes feels disjointed, struggling to balance the psychological horror of Poe with the cosmic terror of Lovecraft. This inconsistency can be jarring, preventing the film from achieving the same level of cohesion seen in other Corman-Price collaborations like The Masque of the Red Death or The Pit and the Pendulum.

Additionally, while Price’s performance is strong, some of the supporting characters lack depth and development, making it difficult for the audience to fully invest in their plights. The film’s slower moments detract from the overall tension, leading to a pacing that feels uneven.

The Prognosis:

The Haunted Palace may not be the strongest entry in the Corman-Price-Poe series, but it remains a film of interest for fans of classic horror. Its atmospheric visuals, strong performances from Vincent Price and Lon Chaney Jr., and the intriguing blend of Poe and Lovecraft make it a unique, if flawed, addition to the genre.

In retrospect, The Haunted Palace stands as a testament to the creative risks taken by Corman and Price, as well as their ability to craft memorable horror experiences even when the material isn’t at its strongest. While it may not reach the heights of their best work, it remains a fascinating piece of horror history, worthy of appreciation for its ambition and atmospheric strengths.

  • Saul Muerte

1960s Retrospective: Diary of a Madman (1963)

29 Saturday Jun 2024

Posted by surgeons of horror in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

diary of a madman, eliis w carter, guy de maupassant, le horla, reginald le borg, Vincent Price

Diary of a Madman (1963), directed by Reginald Le Borg and starring Vincent Price, is a psychological horror film that delves into the darker recesses of the human mind. Based on Guy de Maupassant’s short story “Le Horla,” the film showcases Price in one of his most compelling performances. This retrospective review will examine the film’s strengths, including its psychological depth, Price’s masterful performance, and its effective execution within the horror genre.

At its core, Diary of a Madman explores themes of madness, possession, and the fragile nature of reality. The story follows Magistrate Simon Cordier (Vincent Price), who becomes tormented by an invisible entity known as the Horla after executing a condemned murderer. The Horla represents an external manifestation of Cordier’s inner demons, blurring the line between supernatural horror and psychological breakdown.

The film’s narrative is steeped in psychological tension, effectively conveying Cordier’s descent into madness. The Horla’s influence over Cordier highlights the struggle between sanity and insanity, illustrating how a seemingly rational man can be driven to the brink by forces beyond his control. This psychological complexity adds a layer of depth to the film, making it more than just a typical horror movie.

Vincent Price delivers a tour de force performance as Simon Cordier. His portrayal is nuanced and multifaceted, capturing the gradual erosion of Cordier’s sanity with remarkable subtlety. Price’s ability to convey fear, desperation, and vulnerability elevates the character, making Cordier a sympathetic and tragic figure.

Price’s performance is marked by his distinctive voice and expressive face, which convey a wide range of emotions. Whether he is confronting the Horla or grappling with his own doubts and fears, Price imbues Cordier with a sense of realism and depth. His performance is the film’s anchor, providing a compelling center around which the horror unfolds.

Diary of a Madman effectively blends supernatural horror with psychological thriller elements, creating a film that is both eerie and thought-provoking. The Horla, though invisible, is a palpable presence throughout the film, its malevolent influence felt in Cordier’s every action and decision. The film’s use of sound and shadow enhances this sense of dread, creating an atmosphere of impending doom.

The film’s pacing is deliberate, allowing the tension to build gradually as Cordier’s grip on reality weakens. This slow burn approach heightens the psychological horror, drawing the audience into Cordier’s increasingly paranoid and claustrophobic world. The use of practical effects and subtle visual cues to suggest the Horla’s presence is effective, avoiding the need for overt special effects and allowing the audience’s imagination to fill in the gaps.

Le Borg’s direction is confident and assured, guiding the audience through Cordier’s psychological torment with a deft hand. The cinematography by Ellis W. Carter is atmospheric, making excellent use of shadows and lighting to create a sense of unease. The production design, with its gothic interiors and period details, enhances the film’s mood and setting.

The screenplay, adapted from Maupassant’s story, remains faithful to the source material while expanding on its themes and characters. The dialogue is sharp and reflective, providing insight into Cordier’s state of mind and the nature of his torment.

The Prognosis:

Diary of a Madman (1963) is a standout entry in the horror genre, distinguished by its psychological depth, Vincent Price’s masterful performance, and its effective execution of supernatural horror. The film’s exploration of madness and possession is both chilling and thought-provoking, making it a compelling watch for fans of classic horror. Over fifty years since its release, Diary of a Madman remains a testament to the enduring power of psychological horror and the enduring appeal of Vincent Price’s unparalleled talent.

  • Saul Muerte

1960s Retrospective: The Raven (1963)

28 Friday Jun 2024

Posted by surgeons of horror in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Boris Karloff, Edgar Allan Poe, peter lorre, roger corman, the raven, Vincent Price

The Raven (1963), directed by Roger Corman and starring Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, and Boris Karloff, is a curious entry in the canon of horror cinema. Loosely based on Edgar Allan Poe’s famous poem, the film diverges significantly from its source material, embracing a blend of horror and comedy that is both unique and peculiar. This retrospective review will explore the film’s psychological elements, the hammy delivery of its cast, and its execution within the horror genre.

At its core, The Raven leverages the psychological unease inherent in Poe’s poem, transforming it into a narrative driven by themes of loss, vengeance, and the supernatural. The film opens with Dr. Erasmus Craven (Vincent Price) mourning the death of his wife Lenore, only to be visited by a talking raven that is actually the transformed Dr. Bedlo (Peter Lorre). This initial setup delves into Craven’s grief and the torment of his memories, echoing the psychological torment that is a hallmark of Poe’s work.

However, as the plot unfolds, the psychological depth gives way to a more whimsical and fantastical storyline. The film’s psychological tension, while present, is often overshadowed by its campier elements. Craven’s internal struggle with his wife’s memory and his confrontation with the necromancer Dr. Scarabus (Boris Karloff) hint at deeper fears of powerlessness and betrayal, yet these themes are not explored with the same gravity found in more traditional horror films.

The performances in The Raven are emblematic of a specific type of theatricality that defines much of Corman’s work. Vincent Price, with his distinctive voice and expressive mannerisms, delivers a performance that is both grandiose and self-aware. His portrayal of Craven is tinged with a knowing wink to the audience, acknowledging the absurdity of the situation while fully committing to the character’s emotional stakes.

Peter Lorre’s Dr. Bedlo provides a counterpoint to Price’s Craven, with a performance that leans heavily into the comedic aspects of his character. Lorre’s physical comedy and his interactions with Price add a layer of levity to the film, balancing the darker themes with humor.

Boris Karloff’s Scarabus is a classic villain, portrayed with a melodramatic flair that fits perfectly within the film’s tone. Karloff’s presence brings a sense of gravitas and menace, yet his performance is also marked by a certain playfulness, particularly in the climactic magical duel with Price’s Craven.

The Raven occupies an unusual space within the horror genre. While it incorporates elements of horror—such as necromancy, transformation, and gothic settings—it does so in a manner that is more whimsical than terrifying. The film’s horror is tinged with a sense of fun, as evidenced by the elaborate, almost cartoonish magical duel and the playful banter between characters.

The film’s execution reflects Roger Corman’s ability to blend genres and tones, creating a piece that is as much a comedy as it is a horror film. The sets and costumes are richly detailed, contributing to the gothic atmosphere, but the overall tone is light-hearted. This approach makes The Raven an outlier in the horror genre, more akin to a dark fantasy or a parody than a traditional horror film.

The Prognosis:

The Raven (1963) stands as a testament to the versatility and charisma of its lead actors and the unique vision of its director. While it may not deliver the psychological intensity or pure horror that one might expect from a film inspired by Edgar Allan Poe, it offers an entertaining blend of horror and comedy. The hammy delivery of its cast, particularly the performances of Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, and Boris Karloff, adds to its charm, making it a memorable and enjoyable film within the horror-comedy subgenre. For fans of classic horror with a twist, The Raven remains a delightful and intriguing watch.

  • Saul Muerte

“Masterful Macabre: Exploring Roger Corman’s ‘Tales of Terror’ Through the Lens of its Stellar Ensemble Cast”

15 Saturday Jun 2024

Posted by surgeons of horror in retrospective

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

basil rathbone, debra paget, Edgar Allan Poe, peter lorre, roger corman, tales of terror, Vincent Price

“Tales of Terror” is a gem in Roger Corman’s filmography, showcasing his adeptness at adapting Edgar Allan Poe’s stories for the screen while also spotlighting a fantastic ensemble cast, the film consists of three separate segments, each based on a different Poe story.

The first segment, “Morella,” follows a man who returns to his ancestral home, only to be haunted by the ghost of his deceased wife. The second segment, “The Black Cat,” centers on a drunken man who becomes increasingly obsessed with his wife’s black cat, leading to tragic consequences. Finally, the third segment, “The Case of M. Valdemar,” tells the story of a mesmerist who experiments with hypnotizing a dying man, with horrifying results.

Throughout these tales of terror, themes of guilt, obsession, and the supernatural are explored, with each segment offering its own unique blend of horror and suspense. The film is notable for its atmospheric cinematography, eerie score, and, of course, its exceptional ensemble cast, which includes horror icon Vincent Price, among others. “Tales of Terror” remains a classic example of Corman’s mastery of the horror genre and his ability to bring Poe’s macabre tales to vivid life on the screen.

Vincent Price, a frequent collaborator with Corman and a master of Gothic horror, delivers a tour-de-force performance in each of the three segments that make up the anthology film. His ability to inhabit a range of characters, from the tragic to the macabre, adds depth and nuance to the storytelling.

Joining Price are esteemed actors such as Peter Lorre and Basil Rathbone, both of whom leave an indelible mark on their respective segments. Lorre’s trademark blend of humor and pathos infuses his portrayal with a sense of whimsy, while Rathbone’s commanding presence lends an air of gravitas to the proceedings.

Additionally, the film benefits from the contributions of actresses like Debra Paget and Joyce Jameson, who bring a sense of vulnerability and strength to their roles. Their performances add layers of complexity to the characters they portray, enriching the thematic depth of the stories.

Furthermore, the ensemble cast enhances the sense of camaraderie and collaboration that permeates the film. Each actor plays off of the others with seamless chemistry, creating a dynamic and engaging viewing experience for audiences.

In “Tales of Terror,” Roger Corman demonstrates his knack for assembling talent both in front of and behind the camera. The ensemble cast elevates the material, breathing life into Poe’s tales of horror and suspense with their captivating performances. Their collective contributions ensure that each segment of the film resonates with audiences long after the credits roll.

  • Saul Muerte
← Older posts

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • December 2025
  • November 2025
  • October 2025
  • September 2025
  • August 2025
  • July 2025
  • June 2025
  • May 2025
  • April 2025
  • March 2025
  • February 2025
  • January 2025
  • December 2024
  • November 2024
  • October 2024
  • September 2024
  • August 2024
  • July 2024
  • June 2024
  • May 2024
  • April 2024
  • March 2024
  • February 2024
  • January 2024
  • November 2023
  • October 2023
  • September 2023
  • August 2023
  • July 2023
  • June 2023
  • May 2023
  • April 2023
  • March 2023
  • February 2023
  • January 2023
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • June 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • July 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016

Categories

  • A Night of Horror Film Festival
  • Alien franchise
  • Alliance Francaise French Film Festival
  • Australian Horror
  • Best Movies and Shows
  • Competition
  • dark nights film fest
  • episode review
  • Flashback Fridays
  • Friday the 13th Franchise
  • Full Moon Sessions
  • Halloween franchise
  • In Memorium
  • Interview
  • japanese film festival
  • John Carpenter
  • killer pigs
  • midwest weirdfest
  • MidWest WierdFest
  • MonsterFest
  • movie article
  • movie of the week
  • Movie review
  • New Trailer
  • News article
  • podcast episode
  • podcast review
  • press release
  • retrospective
  • Rialto Distribution
  • Ring Franchise
  • series review
  • Spanish horror
  • sydney film festival
  • Sydney Underground Film Festival
  • The Blair Witch Franchise
  • the conjuring franchise
  • The Exorcist
  • The Howling franchise
  • Top 10 list
  • Top 12 List
  • Trash Night Tuesdays on Tubi
  • umbrella entertainment
  • Uncategorized
  • Universal Horror
  • Wes Craven
  • wes craven's the scream years

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Surgeons of Horror
    • Join 228 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Surgeons of Horror
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar