ICONS OF HORROR:
HAMMER FILMS
U.K. | 1960-1964
Directors:
Terence Fisher
Michael Carreras, Seth Holt
Starring
Christopher Lee, Paul Massie
Ronald Howard, Peter Cushing
Barbara Shelley, Susan Strasberg

Color, B&W
| Not Rated
THE TWO FACES OF DR. JEKYLL: 88 Min.
CURSE OF THE MUMMY'S TOMB: 80 Min.

THE GORGON: 83 Min.
SCREAM OF FEAR: 81 Min.

Format: DVD (R1 - NTSC | 2-disc set)
Sony Pictures Home Entertainment
Christopher Lee, Victorian party animal.
Hold your mouse pointer over an image for a pop-up caption
Title Card: THE TWO FACES OF DR. JEKYLL.
Self-experimentation.
The Shameless Ones.
Mr. Hyde enjoys the high life.
Snake dance.
Opium den.
No gentleman.
Jekyll's inferno.
Title Card: THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY'S TOMB.
Greasepaint Arabs.
The consumate showman.
Barging in.
Supplication.
The obligatory "mummy carrying girl" scene.
Four-film/2-Disc Set
ICONS OF HORROR: HAMMER FILMS
 
 
  Movie Ratings (DISC 1)  
Dr. Jekyll - 8
Mummy's Tomb -5
  DVD Rating   8  
10 = Highest
Rating
 
Guest Review by Troy Howarth | Page 1 of 2
After neglecting their Hammer Films catalogue for years, Sony has finally gotten on the ball — first with their Icons Of Adventure set, and now, with even more cause for celebration, this new Icons of Horror set. Released just in time for Halloween, it gathers together three of Hammers most interesting films — and a handsomely produced dud to balance things out. (Please note: these films are reviewed in the order presented in this two disc set; they are not being approached in strictly chronological order.)
    The Two Faces Of Dr. Jekyll (1960): Reclusive and antisocial Dr. Henry Jekyll (Paul Massie) experiments on himself and unleashes a handsome and depraved alter ego named Edward Hyde...
    Following the success of their initial batch of gothic horror films, Hammer and producer Michael Carreras decided to court prestige with a higher budgeted and higher profile adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson's famous novella, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Sooner that follow the template perfected by Rouben Mamoulian in his Oscar-winning 1931 adaptation, the studio engaged socially conscious playwright and screenwriter Wolf Mankowitz (The Day The Earth Caught Fire, 1961) to take a more Freudian approach to the material. Mankowitz's screenplay was risqué for its time, and in terms of ambition it far exceeded anything Hammer had tackled up to that point.
    Though Jerry Lewis received much acclaim for his inspired parody of Stevenson in The Nutty Professor, Hammer's film beat him to the punch — as in that later comedy, the film presents a frumpy and awkward Jekyll who blossoms into a handsome and devilishly charming Hyde. No doubt audiences of the period, especially those accustomed to Hammer's brand of horror, felt let down by this though it does play into director Terence Fisher's ongoing exploration of the seductive nature of evil. Alas, Mankowitz's script — or Fisher's handling of it? — fails to make Hyde into a credibly dangerous presence, thus diminishing the film's dramatic punch. The characters are a fairly sordid and ineffectual lot, and the film's purpose seems to dwell on watching them decline — a commentary of sorts, no doubt, on the underlying corruption Mankowitz perceived in Victorian society. Fisher often commented that he felt no sympathy with this approach, but the finished product doesn't betray any indifference on his part.
   
That said, the stylistic approach to the material is somewhat different from Fisher's usual technique. While most of his work relies on montage, reflecting his background as an editor, here he adopts a fluid camera style that often takes in entire scenes in single extended takes — it's not quite as extravagant (and indeed distracting) as Hitchcock's (in)famous ten-minute takes in Rope (1948), but it's near enough to make one wonder if Fisher had that film in mind while making this one. Though talky, the film is consistently interesting to look at, though there is a little too much padding during the night club scenes. (I like a good can-can scene as much as the next fella, but it gets a bit redundant.) The stylized settings and lighting give the film a highly theatrical flavor, with Jack Asher contributing some of his loveliest lighting to any Hammer horror — the use of vivid primaries isn't quite as pronounced as in, say, The Mummy (1959) but the end result is elegant and beautiful to behold. Sooner than bring in their regular house composer, James Bernard, to provide a blood and thunder soundtrack, Monty Norman (who created the signature theme for James Bond) and David Heneker were enlisted to provide the film's lush music score. The music complements the images beautifully and helps to create the impression of an A-level production.
    In terms of acting, Christopher Lee gives one of his best performances as Jekyll's irresponsible friend, Paul Allen. Fans have often questioned why Lee was not cast in the central role(s), but it pays to remember that this was conceived as a 'prestige' film, and as such the studio wasn't interested in casting one of their regulars in the starring part. In any event, Lee clearly relished playing the colorful rogue, and he effortlessly steals the picture. (Fans looking to see what Lee could have done with the part might want to check out 1970's I, Monster — a literal but anemic adaptation of the story that nevertheless features a stellar performance from the actor.) Dawn Addams (The Vampire Lovers) is also terrific as Jekyll's faithless wife, while David Kossoff (The Mouse That Roared) shines as his concerned friend, Latour. There aren't many familiar Hammer character performers on display, but Francis DeWolff (The Curse Of The Werewolf) does with he can with a purely functional policeman character. Though Mankowitz had hoped to lure Lawrence Harvey (The Manchurian Candidate) into playing Jekyll and Hyde, he was outside Hammer's cost-sensitive clutch and the role instead went to Canadian actor Paul Massie. Massie is basically forgotten these days, but at the time he was hot off winning the BAFTA (the British equivalent to the Oscar) for his role in 1958's Orders To Kill and was something of a coup for the studio. His performance is naturally a 'make or break' factor, and he continues to divide fans and critics. He makes for a credible — if somewhat whiny — Jekyll, but his Hyde, as noted, lacks a real sense of threat. As Jekyll, his performance is somewhat hampered by a phony looking beard and pasty makeup, but he is earnest and credible; as Hyde, he leers and mugs a great deal, but he isn't strong enough the convey the character's animalistic lure. It's by no means a disastrous performance, but its shortcomings, coupled with an anticlimactic finale (much scaled down from Mankowitz's original screenplay), prevent the film from measuring up to the very best of Hammer's early horror films. Even so, it remains a thoughtful and engaging take on an old chestnut, and one of the most experimental and interesting of the studio's output.
    The Curse Of The Mummy's Tomb (1964): An expedition uncovers the tomb of the Egyptian Prince Ra; the usual chaos and mayhem ensues...
    Hammer's 1959 take on The Mummy is one of the studio's best films. Despite an occasionally ropey screenplay that relies too much on the Universal cycle of the 1940s, it's an exciting and visually stunning film that compares well to the original 1932 classic starring Boris Karloff. The law of diminishing returns promised that their belated follow-up wouldn't be on the same level, but the drop-off in quality is particularly alarming in this instance.
    Forget the mummy: Michael Carreras is the real villain here. He produced, wrote (under the cheeky alias "Henry Younger", a playful variation on the pen name of his friend Anthony Hinds, "John Elder") and directed the film, and as such there's no shuffling the blame onto a disinterested second or third party. The son of Hammer's chairman Sir James Carreras, Carreras chomped at the bit at Hammer, desperately trying to take the company in new directions. This film marked his second directorial attempt for the company — following the limp psychological thriller Maniac (1962) — and he displays none of the pulpy flair he would later bring to the studio's wonderfully bizarre The Lost Continent (1968). His script is hopelessly clichéd, though he does deserve credit for devising an inventive final twist — alas, it's too little too late. The film is as plodding as its titular character, despite the best efforts of production designer Bernard Robinson and cinematographer Otto Heller (Peeping Tom, 1960). It's certainly a handsome-looking production, but it basically amounts to nothing — highlights are few and far between and it wouldn't do to recommend the film based solely on a lively climax.
    The cast is certainly game, but virtually everybody is hamstrung by the trite characterizations. Ronald Howard (best remembered for his tenure as Sherlock Holmes on TV in the '50s) is a likable performer, but he's given little of interest as the nominal hero. Jeanne Roland has ample cleavage, but little real screen presence — the fact that she's dubbed by another actress renders her performance even more hollow. Terence Morgan (Olivier's Hamlet) makes for a smooth and sardonic villain, but he, too, isn't given enough to work with. Hammer favorites George Pastell (The Mummy) and Michael Ripper (Dracula Has Risen From The Grave) put in appearances, but Ripper in particular is badly used — he's not only the most unbelievable Egyptian guide one can imagine, but he's barely even onscreen! The real standout is American character actor Fred Clark (Sunset Blvd.), here cast as a brash American showman who attempts to take the mummy on tour for a paying public. The film comes to life whenever he's on screen, so much so that one misses him when he's not in frame. Clark gives his character ample charm and wit, and he seems to be having a great time playing loose and fast against the veddy British principals. The mummy itself is played by Dickie Owen, and Roy Ashton's bulky makeup makes him into a superhuman presence that lacks the pathos and dignity that Christopher Lee brought to the role in the previous film.
    Carlo Martelli contributes a fine score, though the obligatory ancient Egyptian flashback is scored with the title theme composed by Franz Reizenstein for Hammer's 1959 Mummy; hearing this music only serves as a further reminder of how inferior this film is when stacked up against the other Hammer Gothics of the period. Though not nearly as depressing as the very worst Hammer horrors — its lush production values, for example, put the likes of Lust For A Vampire or Scars Of Dracula to shame — it is arguably the studio's worst horror picture up to that time.
Continue to Page 2 of this Review...  
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