Hammer Horror Movie Posters That Make Dracula Look Constipated #5 - Scars of Dracula

Hammer Horror Movie Posters That Make Dracula Look Constipated #4 - Dracula Has Risen From The Grave

DR TERROR'S HOUSE OF HORRORS (1965)

Day #22.
Temperature: Freezing.
Weather: Blizzard.
Visibility: Don't know - can't see for the blizzard.

Confined to my igloo with nothing but the endless static on the battered old transistor radio for company. Then - a miracle! An ancient portable TV in the corner (yes, this igloo does have a corner) crackles into life! A message starts to appear! Perhaps this could be a clue as to why I'm here? And how I can get out? I'll fetch a pen and paper. Must write this down. Must record what happens...

DR TERROR'S HOUSE OF HORRORS (1965)

Roy Castle, Kenny Lynch and Alan 'Fluff' Freeman???


Why, it can only be a classic British horror anthology from Amicus!

It's a great title for a horror movie, but I have issues with it. We meet Dr. Terror on a train. We never see his house. So why not call it Dr. Terror's Train of something or other... Horror, Trauma, Doom, whatever... why house???

Anyway, we're on the train. The 7:55 express to Bradley. It's one of those wonderful old fashioned carriages where 6 people could sit together. One of them is the mysterious, bushily eyebrowed Dr. Schreck (Peter Cushing). Schreck means 'terror' in German apparently. Hence the title. Although unless 'house' means 'train' in German, I still have issues with it.

Dr. Schreck whips out a pack of Tarot cards and, what with this being the days before iPods and Nintendo's, he manages to interest the other guys enough to tell each his future... future... future... future...

First up is a promising but disappointing tale called 'Werewolf' in which an architect travels home to a Scottish island to renovate an old house of his, now owned by an odd old lady. It's a bit of a plodder. Next.

The second story is a bit silly. And not in a good way, as Alan 'Fluff' 'Not 'arf' 'Howdy Pop-pickers'Freeman get terrorised by a killer plant. Not as much fun as you'd think.

The third story's a belter! Now we're talking! Biff Bailey (Roy Castle) steals music from an ancient voodoo ritual during a visit to the West Indies. When he performs his new song back in blighty all HELL breaks loose (as a disapproving Kenny Lynch looks on). Marvellous stuff, despite being borderline racist.

Then we come to the fourth and finest installment, the unforgettable 'Disembodied Hand'. Step forward Christopher Lee...

... a harsh, pompous, twat of an art critic who constantly lets everyone know how awful he thinks artist Eric Landor's (Michael Gough) work is. Eric gets his revenge when he fools Lee into praising a work by an unknown artist, who is then revealed to be a chimpanzee! Much hilarity ensues, and Eric should have left it at that really, but he proceeds to rub it in by constantly following Lee to important functions and reminding him of his lapse of judgement. Making monkey sounds at him. Throwing bananas at him, that sort of thing. Eventually Lee snaps and takes his revenge by running the artist down in cold blood. The artist loses his hand. But not for long, as the hand proceeds to stalk poor Christopher Lee!
As an eight year old, this was terrifying stuff indeed. As The Igloo Keeper, perhaps not quite as terrifying. But still fabulous fun!

The final part 'Vampire' features a young Donald Sutherland...

...who suspects his wife is a vampire. I liked it. Very nice twist.

And then we're back in the train carriage as it reaches its destination... where can they be?

I have a bit of a problem with the ending(as well as the title, now that I come to think about it) in as much as - I just don't get. Oh, I realise that it's about not being able to cheat death or something but... why all the palaver? Why all the tales about vampires and werewolves if... ? If you've seen it, and you're not as dumb as me, please explain... you know my address: The Igloo Keeper, Igloo of the Uncanny, Desolate Arctic Wasteland.

RASPUTIN - THE MAD MONK (1966)

Pre-revolutionary Russia. The peasant landlord of a country tavern is nursing his terribly ill wife. Enter Rasputin!

He promptly heals the landlords wife, takes advantage of the landlord’s hospitality to get riotously drunk, has a fight, has a dance, ravages a wench, cuts someones hand off, jumps through a roof onto a waiting horse, shouts “Hurrah!” and gallops away.

Rasputin, as played by Christopher Lee, is basically a Lord Flashheart for the grunge generation. In this historically inaccurate (I assume. I hope!) Hammer offering, we see him cut a swathe through pre-revolutionary Russian society, shagging, drinking, fighting and shouting in an incredibly deep voice as he goes.

Christopher Lee is nothing short of perfect in this role. Tall,loud, athletic, with mad staring eyes and a huge false beard - exactly the kind of guy that you'd make a point of avoiding in bus stops (not that there were any bus stops in pre-revolutionary Russia of course. Which I suspect may have been one of the underlying causes of the revolution. But that's another post).

The film has a fine supporting cast, including everyone’s favourite MILF Barbara Shelley, who falls under Rasputin’s spell and hops into bed with him at any given opportunity, before he casts her aside in the cruellest fashion.

Rasputin gets his comeuppance of course. It’s not easy to take him down though, the hard-as-nails bastard that he is, but goodness prevails, and the Mad, Bad monk is last seen lying twisted and broken on the snow...

... having fallen out of a second story window. After being drugged. And beaten up. And poisoned. And stabbed. And fed loads of chocolates of the poisoned variety.

Personally, I would have added a final scene where Rasputin jumps back up, straightens his beard, swigs a bottle of vodka, jumps on his horse, shouts "Hurrah!" and gallops off. But you can’t have everything I suppose…

CITY OF THE DEAD (1960)

I love the mist - completely over the top but great fun! No, no, no! I'm not talking about this year's 'The Mist', you've got it all wrong! I'm talking about the wonderfully thick, dense, spooky mist in Horror Hotel. Check out the trailer (between 15 and 20 seconds to be exact)...



Or should it be fog? What's the difference between mist and fog anyway? Tell you what, let's talk about this another time, because before you lose interest I must tell you that 'City of the Dead' (or 'Horror Hotel' in the US - don't get me started on why films feel the need to change titles)is a wonderful, eerie little treasure from 1960.

It starts with a witch, Elizabeth Selwyn, getting burned to a cinder back in 1692. Fast forward to the modern day (with a rather fetching Be-Bop Beatnik Jazz soundtrack)where a young student, Nancy, is advised by her tutor (none other than Christopher Lee)to travel to the village of Whitewater to continue her research...

...which takes us to Whitewater - bring on the mist! Or fog. Whatever, it's all over the place - making it quite difficult to see the damn place - but also making it wonderfully, fantastically (in the original sense of the word) spooky!

And things don't get any less spooky when Nancy checks into the hotel, where the owner (played to sinister perfection by Patricai Jessel)bears an uncanny resemblance to one Elizabeth Selwyn... and turns out to be, well - that would be telling. Suffice to say that some genuinely shocking things do happen to some good people. And we're treated to a great ending with witches running around on fire - Bravo!

So if you're a fan of terrible tales - or extreme weather conditions - check in to Horror Hotel. But be warned - you'll be dying to leave!!! Myooohahahaa!Myoohhaahaaaa Myooo...COUGH COUGH!COUGH!!!... damn, that bloody fog gets everywhere...

HORROR EXPRESS (1973)

Horror Express starts with a monster-in-a-box being loaded onto a Trans-Siberian express type train, with messrs Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee taking a keen interest! With that kind of set up, surely it would have been technically impossible for this not to be a great film. And Horror Express does not disappoint.

The wonderful thing about the Cushing and Lee characters is that they’re both exactly how I’d imagine them to be in real life. Lee is very straight-laced, stern, humourless and quite ruthless whereas Cushing is slightly mischevious and playful. Both are of course, absolute gentlemen and thoroughly, utterly, British!



Sequels are obviously the spawn of Satan himself, but I would have loved to see these characters pit their wits against each other again. Perhaps on different modes of transport – train, cruise liner, zeppelin…rickshaw, the possibilities are endless.

Another great thing about Horror Express is the number of baddies to look out for. A marvellous Rasputin-like monk. The police detective who starts acting strangely. And Telly Savalas (in an extended cameo as the leader of a gang of Cossacks) who boards the train, punches Peter Cushing in the knackers and steals the show before (slight spoiler) dying.

Horror Express looks and feels like Hammer film – the inclusion of Lee and Cushing obviously helps a great deal – but it’s not, it’s actually a Spanish production, directed by Eugenio Martin, who had just finished Pancho Villa. And must have stopped Telly Savalas heading back to the U.S. somehow… anyway, it’s a classic - Cushing and Lee, mad monks, monsters in boxes, rampaging Cossacks all in a confined space…Horror Express is a one-way Super Saturday Saver ticket to horror heaven!

DRACULA A.D. 1972 (1972, obviously)

What a freaky scene, man!

A guilty pleasure this one. There's something not quite right watching Dracula commanding his minions to a freaky-jazz-funk-odyssey soundtrack. On the other hand, the final fight scene is great set to a freaky-jazz-funk-odyssey soundtrack - Baaa raa baa ba baaa! Bee doole oop ba ba ba! Bana dadla daaa! Brilliant.

Johnny Alucard is the strange young man who turns up from nowhere (and looks a bit like Jez from Peepshow)...



Anyway, he co-erces 'the kids' (most of them in their mid-to-late 20's) into a freaky resurrection scene to bring a certain vampire back.

All goes well - but when that square Van Helsing came a calling, dig it - that cat stuck it to The Man!

Or something. I must say Johnny's death was a bit of an anti-climax for me. Fair enough, he's being burnt by sunlight, but there's really no excuse to wander into the bathroom, accidentally pull the shutter to let loads more sunlight in, and then, whilst recoiling from that mishap, accidentally run yourself a bath and fall in it. That kind of thing should be on every good vampire's 'Remember Not To Do' list.

Oh and wow wasn't Stephanie Beacham's chest magnificent! But you'll have to watch the film to check it out, I'm not posting titillating pics here, what do you take me for?

But it was magnificent. You might catch a glimpse of it in the trailer above.