I read this 384-page book in one sitting, something I don’t do very often, but Sam Irvin has done such a great service to those of us who love larger than life personalities that the life of Kay Thompson deserved my full attention. There are probably few outside of the New York/Hollywood-over-40-show-biz-crowd that would even remember who this remarkable lady was, and that is another reason to rejoice at what Mr. Irvin has done in painstakingly researching this fabulous woman from her early days in St Louis as the impossibly named Kitty Fink right through her rise to power in Hollywood as the woman behind most of the creative talent at MGM {Kay was the vocal coach for many of the biggest names in town}.

Now for me this woman resonated straight away because I had spent a certain part of my life as a Talent agent in Hollywood and difficult actresses were commonplace, yet so few had the talent to make you go the distance in being a part of their lives. Kay Thompson achieved immortality as the author of a series of very adult children’s books centered around a six yr old mascot of the legendary Plaza hotel in New York. A cottage industry has long been in place to maintain this character well into the 21st century.

Kay Thompson came into my life much the same way she came into Sam Irvin’s, as a thinly veiled Diana Vreeland parody in Stanley Donen’s FUNNY FACE. In what was to have been an Audrey Hepburn/Fred Astaire showcase, Kay Thompson simply steals every scene she is in. The highlight being her rendition of the “THINK PINK” number which rocked the house as if Auntie Mame all of the sudden had a musical number in it. The irony here is, of course, that Kay Thompson was the original choice to play Vera Charles to Roz Russell’s Mame.

Kay Thompson should have been a huge star after her performance in FUNNY FACE, yet a combination of ego and bad judgment created a decidedly different story for the diva in question. This situation has played out many times before with powerhouse personalities like Isadora Duncan and especially the Machesa Casati whose life story would be filmed sort of by Vincente Minnelli as his ill conceived swan song A MATTER OF TIME, in which his daughter by Judy Garland, Liza, played an ugly duckling to a very miscast Ingrid Bergman. Kay was also considered for the Bergman role, however fate intervened so she would be spared the comparison to her own life of excess. Sam Irvin has gone the distance in locating and connecting all the dots in the zany world in which Kay Thompson lived, going from Hollywood to New York, then Rome, where she drifted as surely as if her old classmate Tennessee Williams had written her into his Roman Spring as a real life Mrs Stone. This is an exhaustive biography making Kay Thompson the skeleton key for anyone interested in Broadway or Hollywood from an insider,s perspective.

The person who shines through most of Kay’s later years is Liza Minnelli, who Kay took in hand after the death of her mother Judy Garland. It would be through Kay’s optimism and genius of knowing what would work for her young protege that Liza was able to blossom into a world-class entertainer. Liza never forgot this attention, and if not for Liza’s generosity this biography would have ended in a decidedly more macabre manner than it does. Kay was given a place to live in style for the rest of her life and for that alone Liza Minnelli deserves our admiration and respect.

I could easily go on and on citing more of what Sam Irvin has done right in bringing this amazing talent back into the limelight where she has always belonged. There are others like Kay who deserve the Sam Irvin treatment and I am going to suggest right here and now that he consider doing a biography of Dolores Gray, another showstopper who never really made that many films and became a sensation in cabaret. Dolores had the same effect Kay had in FUNNY FACE whenever she was onscreen in the MGM remake of KISMET. Francis Faye also come to mind as another lady whose talents made her a world wide sensation yet remains relatively unknown today.

What Sam Irvin has done in writing this book is simply smashing, he has brought back one of the bright lights of both Broadway and New York at a time when we really need to be reminded just how entertainers like Madonna and Lady GAGA were allowed to exist in the first place…..you owe it to yourself to spend an evening with Kay Thompson and THINK PINK!

In the late 80′s the archivist and author John Kobal began in earnest to create a large coffee table book to honor the films of Cecil B De Mille. He chose to call it DEMILLE AND HIS ARTISTS. John had the full cooperation of the DeMille estate and the surviving heirs of De Mille himself. John was allowed to do his research in the DeMille home in Los Angeles and at the time had acquired a treasure trove of costumes and props from all of DeMilles greatist films. During this time he employed me to do research along with Mark Wanamaker, so the two of us would trade off doing whatever John felt was needed to make this book the definitive study of one of Hollywood’s most outlandish yet respected producer-directors. John was always amused at my devotion to the artisans of the Horror genre, whether it was spending the day with Robert Florey to discuss MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE or working on my cable interview show THE SINISTER IMAGE. It was during this period, when I was taping shows with Vincent Price and Cameron Mitchell as well as directors as varied as Waris Hussien and Russ Meyer, that John asked me to interview John Carradine on his early days working for De Mille. I had planned to tape a SINSTER IMAGE show with Carradine to follow the one I had just taped with Vincent Price.

John at that time was living near Santa Barbara in the smaller community of Monticeto, we had already taped an audio interview in preparation for his Sinister Image appearance, so it was relatively easy to persude Carradine to talk about his early days as an actor in Hollywood just before he established himself in films like John Ford’s STAGECOACH. This interview has been a long time in seeing the light of day, as John Kobal died before his cherished project could be completed. This Camp David is dedicated to the memory of both John Carradine and especially for John Kobal, who made Hollywood all the more special by being such a champion of its glamour.

John Carradine’s interview was conducted in his home on November 10th, 1984.

DAVID DEL VALLE: Your first encounter with Cecil B. DeMille was SIGN OF THE CROSS.

JOHN CARRADINE: Yes. Well, I’d heard that he was about to do it and I lived just across the street almost from Paramount Studios. I went over there to the casting office and they sent me to wardrobe to put on what was called an Class-A costume. And I went on the set and the assistant brought me to DeMille, who looked at me and said, “Your face is too narrow. The camera wouldn’t record anything from your face.” But I did a bit in the film. I don’t think I even had any dialogue. And that was my first meeting with DeMille.

DDV: Then thee was CLEOPATRA.

JC: And then I was in CLEOPATRA, and I saw DeMille do something in that…no, that was THE CRUSADES. I worked on THE CRUSIDES too.

DDV: Did you have a speaking part in THE CRUSADES?

JC: Very briefly. He never let me do very much because he said my face was too narrow. In THE CRUSADES I saw him do an extraordinary thing. He had a scene of men in Gothic armor under which were suits of chain mail, all of which together weighed about 115 pounds. They were on a fighting tower which was truncated, wider at the bottom than it was at the top. When the bottom was against the castle wall, the top was about twelve feet away. And he wanted his stunt men in their Gothic armor to leap from the top of the fighting tower to the castle wall, and no one would try it. DeMille put on the armor and did it himself, and he was then over fifty years of age. I saw him do it.

DDV: What kind of man was he?

JC: A lot of actors hated his guts. I didn’t. He had no compunction about criticizing people who didn’t know their business. He never directed actors. He directed the camera. He just hired the best actors there were and let them do their job. I never saw him tell an actor how to read a line. Never. On the other hand, he hated homosexuals. And there was an unfortunate Englishman who had a speech to read, and I’ve forgotten what picture it was, but his voice had a lisp, and DeMille fired him. But he was brought back because DeMille’s top assistant explained to him that this poor guy was using, for the first time, his whole set of false teeth.

DDV: So he just had a lisp from the false teeth?

JC: He had a lisp from his false teeth, which didn’t fit very well. And the dentist found out that they had to make two little indentions right in there otherwise you have a whistle or a lisp. DeMille was a martinet in some ways.

DDV: Did he also know that you were an artist and a sculptor?

JC: I did an heroic bust of him. I can show you a picture of it.

DDV: Oh, I’d love to see it. What year was that?

JC: Oh, let me think. I was living in Livingston Court, which is just off Van Ness Boulevard in Hollywood, which isn’t far from Paramount Studio. DeMille never posed for me. I just sat on the set and sketched him, and then took it home. I’d spend the night half on studying dialogue and half working on the bust. And he paid me $750. for a bronze, which didn’t pay for the molding, only for the bronze. He never got it, though, because my landlord was a Fin by the name of Svend Holm and he had hooked the studio on the basis of his acquaintanceship with Jack London. The front of the building was covered by a huge mural of Jack London, and on the top was a handrail with a fish net stretched over it, the top of which was a schooner head that belonged to Jack London. Holm came into my studio and destroyed the bust, which was still in clay. By the time I got back it was in a million pieces. I said to myself, “Well, there goes my career with DeMille.” But not so. When I had the guts to inform him of the situation, he didn’t bat an eye and didn’t ask for his $750. back.

DDV: What was his relationship between case and crew up until THE TEN COMMANDMENTS?

JC: Let me tell you a story that truly sums up DeMille, both as a man and as a director. We were nearly finished with THE TEN COMMANDMENTS and there was but one really important scene that remained to be shot, involving a number of extras going through the desert. DeMille always worked with at least ten yes-men at his side at all times, including his cameraman, whose name for the life of me I can’t remember [Loyal Griggs]. Well, DeMille decided to shoot the sequence from the top of a very steep hill. It was obvious to most of us on the crew that he wasn’t well. His appearance was ashen. Well, as they marched halfway up the hill, DeMille grabbed arm of his cameraman and collapsed, sinking to the ground. He lay there for almost twenty minutes. As people went to find a doctor, DeMille collected himself and looked up at his cameraman and said, “Let’s go. I want to finish this Goddamn shot.” It was the last piece of film that DeMille ever directed. And that, for me, summed up the essence of the man, who always finished what he started.

DDV: Was that the last time you saw him?

JC: Absolutely. And it’s the way I want to remember him.

DDV: How would you compare and contrast the working methods of DeMille with someone like John Ford?

JC: Well it’s quite simple. I never saw DeMille give an actor direction. However, John Ford would take as much time as he felt was necessary to coax an actor into a performance. You must remember that John Ford was a theatre man and an artist. I don’t think anyone would consider De Mille anything other than a brilliant showman.

DDV: I suppose John Ford enjoyed your Shakespearian acting style as DeMille enjoyed your work as a painter and sculptor.

JC: No, no. Totally the reverse. DeMille would have never hired me if he hadn’t been fascinated with my somewhat startling Shakespearian highs and lows. I had very little dialogue in THE CRUSADES, but every single word was accentuated or it was done over. Whereas all Ford was fascinated with was trying to make me squint, which is the reason I have the mannerism, which is so noticeable in all my work with him. He would literally position the lights so that they would go right into my face, and many times I couldn’t see without my now well-known scowl. That I owe to John Ford.

DDV: How would you describe John Ford as a man as compared to DeMille?

JC: They were quite dissimilar, but Mr. Ford, like any other man, was not without his flaws. And he could be, on occasion, very petty. I remember quite well doing one film, I think it was DRUMS ALONG THE MOHAWK. Ford had a habit of always having as a treat for his cast and crew a large campfire every night complete with musicians and a lavish buffet. And this tradition was part of every Ford set. Now during the filming, one of the script girls, or somebody, I can’t remember who, pissed John off in no uncertain terms. Well now, instead of reprimanding the girl, there was no campfire or entertainment for the whole crew that evening, and no explanation was given then nor to my knowledge ever was. That was the way he expressed his displeasure.

DDV: Did you ever hear of a special meeting of the Screen Director’s Guild to oust Joe Mankiewicz as President, when John Ford stood up and said, “I don’t like you C.B, I admire you, but I don’t like you.”?

JCC: No. Where did you hear that? There was no public feud with Ford or DeMille that I ever heard of. And as you know, I’ve been in Hollywood more than most.

DDV: Did you ever discuss Ford With DeMille?

JCC (laughing): Good God, man! That’s like asking a woman her age. Of course not. Mr. DeMille never mentioned or expressed any admiration for any other film director on the set, which as I’ve told you before is the only recollection I have. I will tell you one last and rather funny story about John Ford. As you may or may not know, John Ford lived up above the Hollywood Bowl. This was in the early forties. And unlike it is today, you could walk onto the stage at any time, day or night. Barrymore was coaching me to learn to project for an upcoming Shakespearian play. So on his advice I would sneak into the Hollywood Bowl and boom out, “Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!” which was my favorite soliloquy from Hamlet. I did this till the wee hours for at least three days, and on the fourth night, I had just begun when a squad of police cars enveloped the Bowl. I made a run for it in the forest area up above. Now several days later, I was on a set and Mr. Ford saw me. He walked over and without saying so much as hello, he said, “Well, I’m glad you’re not in jail, cause I’m the one that called the police. You see, you son of a bitch, I need my rest as much as you need your rehearsal time. And it might interest you to know your projection is just fine. You have a director’s approval.”

In the tradition of Gore Vidal’s MYRON…(the sequel of sorts to his camp classic MYRA BREKINRIDGE) comes yet another revisionist take on old movies. This time however the characters are not lost in an old movie; they really are the old movie. In Myron our protagonist falls asleep while watching Maria Montez in all her Technicolor glory as COBRA WOMAN, however when he wakes up he finds himself in the movie itself. The premise of Peter H. Brothers novella is simply taking a second more detailed look at Bela Lugosi’s camp classic DEVIL BAT as if it were a true story that could not really be told in the pre-war era of Hollywood with the production code enforced as it was in 1940, the year DEVIL BAT was being filmed over at Monogram pictures.

Mr. Brothers’ love of Lugosi and all his films is evident on every page since he must have had to watch this film dozens of times to prepare for this retelling and revising of the characters. If you are planning to read this book it is essential that you see the film at least once to fully appreciate what he has accomplished here. The title includes the line THE JOURNAL OF JOHNNY LAYTON and it is with Layton that the tale officially begins. The differences are many and a few are surprising, especially the revelation that the overweight police chief Walker is gay and on the make for our handsome humpy reporter Johnny…a detail no doubt left on the cutting room floor over at Monogram, but reinstated here courtesy of Mr. Brothers imagination. The evil Dr. Carruthers as played by Lugosi is well represented here and with much time given to discuss his motives for revenge against those who stole from him in the first place. Of all of Lugosi’s films done during the 40′s, DEVIL BAT mirrors the actor’s plight with his terrible career moves after the success of DRACULA in 1931. By the time he was making these potboilers at studios like PRC and Monogram he was paid flat fees of $ 5000 or less for each one of them, like VOODOO MAN or RETURN OF THE APE MAN. In this film Bela takes revenge on those men who stole his invention and openly took pleasure in doing so…his response was to create a hybrid of killer bats that, when given a scent he cleverly placed on the victims throat, would then swoop down from the night skies, tearing their throats out….very vampiric of course; after all this is Lugosi we’re talking about here.

I won’t spoil the rest by giving away too much about what is revealed as our handsome reporter uncovers the underbelly of a small American town, as revealed on the late late show, with the addition of a third dimension, undreamed of by those who only know this material from the film.

Peter H Brothers first came to my attention via the films of Ishiro Honda since he has done a study of the Japanese director of ATTACK OF THE MUSHROOM PEOPLE before taking on the sage of the devil bats. He is also an actor, and of course a lifelong Lugosi fan….anyone who sees themselves in this must check this book out ASAP.

POSTSCRIPT

I am no stranger to revisionist writing myself, only instead of DEVIL BAT my Monogram film of choice was VOODOO MAN. If you want to read how I brought character actor George Zucco out of limbo long enough to do his “Cabaret act” in a dream of mine regarding time spent with Kenneth Anger then go to the Camp David archive and find WELCOME TO THE BREAKFAST SHOW……only RAMBOONA knows for sure….

EDIE’S: A COCKTAIL BAR ON FIGUEROA

Sometime during the summer of 1982 I found myself at Duke’s Tropicana Café, then located on Santa Monica Boulevard. Duke’s had become a Hollywood rock-and-roll institution since both Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin had nursed many a hangover within its greasy walls and booths during the summer of ’68, when Duke’s first opened its doors.

On this particular morning (a Saturday, if memory serves) the joint was jumping with a cross section of Hollywood and rock-and-roll personalities. In the corner booth sat a very familiar-looking older gentleman with two other men around the same age. Now at this point I must tell you I am really good at recognizing former film stars and the like, and on this Saturday morning I was staring at one of the only surviving stars of CASABLANCA, Paul Henried, famed Warner Bros. leading man and then TV and feature film director. If Paul had never directed anything he would still deserve my attention but this man, who worked with Bogart, also directed one of my all-time favorite guilty pleasures, DEAD RINGER, one of the macabre films Bette Davis made in the wake of her WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? success. Paul had been her co-star in NOW VOYAGER where he famously lit two cigarettes and then handed one of them to Davis at the film’s teary finale.

As I watched Mr. Henried begin to collect his things I knew I had to do something fast to let him know I was aware of who he was, but how? At this point in time I still smoked and the guy I was with that morning also had the habit, so I waited until Paul Henried had made his way up to the cash register and then I made my move. He sort of noticed that I was grinning at him as he walked over to where I was standing, still waiting for a booth, and at that moment I took two cigarettes out of my coat pocket and yes, I did exactly what you are thinking I did: I lit two of them and handed one to a startled Henried who, as it turned out, was a real sport, accepting it with panache. By now a couple of the customers caught on to what was transpiring at the cash register and, with all eyes on the two of us, applauded the situation.

I was so impressed with the grace he displayed at what could have been a real moment of embarrassment for both of us if he had not been so gallant about this blatant display of Hollywood nostalgia. I introduced myself and then told him how much I enjoyed his films at Warner Bros., especially NOW VOYAGER, and then I brought up his film DEAD RINGER. He smiled and while he paid his check he gave me his card and then said to me, “I enjoyed making that film probably more than you did watching it…Bette is such an enormous talent that it was a pleasure to direct her in anything.”

This was the first time I was able to articulate just how much this film has stayed with me since seeing it as a kid at the drive-in and then again countless times on television. I had brought up what is acknowledged by most film buffs to be a highly enjoyable piece of camp from a totally over-the-top Davis riding the crest of her popularity from BABY JANE. Her co-star Joan Crawford was doing exactly the same thing that year, starring in her own variation of BABY JANE mania with STRAIT-JACKET over at the Columbia lot with William Castle.

The “divine feud” between Joan Crawford and Bette Davis has been well documented elsewhere, but in discussing DEAD RINGER it always amused me that even though Davis’s film was a first class Warner Bros. production, photographed by Ernest Haller, with a suitably macabre score by Andre Previn, and with a hand-picked collection of top Hollywood character actors, the fact remains Crawford’s trashy low-budget William Castle howler (with Joan playing at being both 25 years old and 55 within the same film) did twice the business DEAD RINGER did that year (1964) because Crawford went out and sold it in major cities across the country. Bill Castle knew how to sell a horror film but he had no idea how much wattage a star like Crawford could put out when it came to her career.

When I first met Bert Remsen he was moonlighting as a casting director with another actor, Dick Dinman. The combination of these two became Remden Casting, and very successful at it they were. Bert was a great guy and loved to talk “Hollywood.” He told me that Bette Davis had cast approval on DEAD RINGER: “The first time I met her she was in make-up sitting in her chair in front of one of those very theatrical mirrors with light bulbs all around it….She had just taken one of her huge eyes and lifted the lid until she looked positively freakish glaring at me with one eye-lid extended….Without missing a beat she said, ‘Can you mix a cocktail and stay on your mark?’ I laughed and told her, ‘Most definitely I could do both and sing Irish while I’m doing it.’ She laughed that famous cackle of hers and told the producer, ‘He’s in. I like him just fine,’ and that is how I got the part of her bartender at Edie’s. During the filming she came in one day with a copy of the Hollywood Reporter and was really excited. She said to me, ‘Bert, have you seen the crap Crawford is up to over at Columbia? I mean, she is doing Lizzie Borden in blackface!’ and with that she just broke herself up laughing. I was then convinced that the Crawford/Davis feud was an ongoing concern with no holds barred…”

The first thing I realized with DEAD RINGER is how old-fashioned a film it was for 1964. It adheres to many film noir conventions, yet was marketed as a horror film, which it decidedly is not. The murder of Margaret De Lorca by her sister Edie is so bloodless as to register disbelief that she was actually shot in the head in the first place. Much attention is placed on Edie removing her dead sister’s stockings and jewelry before donning her sister’s widow’s weeds and making her hasty exit from the poverty that was her life on Figueroa Street.

While her rival was over at Columbia filming “crap” and beheading most of the cast in the process with an axe, Bette was at that same moment being exceptionally photographed by Ernest Haller with much attention to noir shadings in the opulent surroundings of GREYSTONE, the Doheny estate which had been used in films as varied as THE LOVED ONE and the 1991 remake of DARK SHADOWS. Gene Hibbs was assigned to do Davis’s make-up and he managed to give the star a streamlined “glamour” look that took at least 10 years off her appearance in DEAD RINGER, something Joan Crawford could have really used in her Columbia fright flick since STRAIT-JACKET required her to do those flashbacks (sadly ineffective) as her 25 year-old former self.

The original title of DEAD RINGER had been the noir-ish WHO IS BURIED IN MY GRAVE? They even retained this title into the advertising stage of the promotion as several posters were released prior to the release date from the studio with that title before Warners decided that the only way to go with a Bette Davis film after BABY JANE was to milk the connection for all it was worth: In BABY JANE the poster art maintained the catchphrase “Sister, sister oh so fair, why is there blood all over your hair?” Now with DEAD RINGER the phrase was “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest twin of all?” It is a supreme gesture that after the well-publicized feuding that ultimately ended the Davis/Crawford partnership on HUSH, HUSH SWEET CHARLOTTE, which also came out in 1964, Davis realized that the only actress with whom it was worth sharing the screen was herself, and that is exactly what we have here with DEAD RINGER. Except for some minor upstaging by the wonderful Jean Hagen in what became her final screen performance as Margret De Lorca’s flighty high society confidant, Davis is free here to act herself literally off the screen. The support she gets from top-flight character actors like George Macready and Estelle Winwood only enhances her own performance even more. The standout performances from Karl Malden and Peter Lawford never get in her way. The most poignant character in the film is played beautifully by Cyril Delevanti as her butler Henry, who knows the score from the moment Edie leaves the De Lorca mansion at the onset until Margaret/Edith is taken away by the police for poisoning her husband. It is Henry who sees the goodness in Edith and maintains his silence until the bitter end, giving Davis one of her most heartfelt lines: “And I thought I was all alone.” Davis understood the importance of such moments and made sure her co-stars were solid in her support.

It was always my impression that DEAD RINGER was designed to follow Bette Davis’s success in BABY JANE and to a certain extent it was. However there was another version based on the source novel LA OTRA that was filmed in Spanish around 1946 showcasing Dolores De Rio.

After that the script sat dormant for years at Warners until the studio dusted it off as a possible vehicle for Lana Turner, whose work for producers like Ross Hunter made her a natural for this kind of film. Turner had achieved a certain reputation by then by way of the scandal sheets that had a field day after the murder of her lover Johnny Stompanato by her teenage daughter. This was most likely the reason Lana Turner turned it down, not wanting to do another murder mystery, even one in which she got to play opposite herself. Bette Davis had been offered a role in the “Rat Pack” western FOUR FOR TEXAS and withdrew to make DEAD RINGER. Her co-star, the Oscar-nominated Victor Buono, was also in the cast of this film, making it a reunion of sorts for them. One can only imagine the quality of scripts that were being sent to both Bette Davis and Joan Crawford if STRAIT-JACKET is any indication at all.

The motif of famous actors playing twins is a long one and just this week seeing Dominic Cooper in THE DEVIL’S DOUBLE play both Uday Hussein and his double was a reminder of just how well it can be done now, yet the real test rests with the actor and in Cooper’s case it has made him a star. Bette Davis was already a legendary actress by the time DEAD RINGER came her way. She had played twins once before in A STOLEN LIFE (1946) and this may have been a factor in why it took so long for Warner Bros. to convince Davis or any other actress to tackle such a project. When Davis made life such a living hell for Joan Crawford that she left the location for HUSH, HUSH SWEET CHARLOTTE after filming nearly half the film, Crawford was later replaced by Olivia De Havilland, another actress who had some experience playing twins in THE DARK MIRROR ( a well-done thriller made by Robert Siodmak, very similar in theme to DEAD RINGER; this film also had two sisters, one homicidal, the other less so).

The best of all the films involving famous actors playing opposite themselves has to be (in my opinion) the 1988 DEAD RINGERS with Jeremy Irons in a tour-de-force performance under the direction of David Cronenberg. Recently I watched Edward Norton, another fine actor, play twins in a very underrated film, LEAVES OF GRASS. The list goes on with special mention to the creepy “Grady daughters” in THE SHINING, Tony Randall in THE SEVEN FACES OF DR. LAO and of course Jack Lemmon in THE GREAT RACE. Bette Davis does not have to suffer her twin beyond the first reel since she summons her to Edie’s cocktail bar right after their tense encounter at the De Lorca mansion where she shoots her sister in the head…reminding us all of the tagline from BABY JANE (“Sister, sister oh so fair, why is their blood all over your hair?”). In the case of this film there is no blood, period, and even when Edie has to see Margaret’s body at the morgue it is a very dead but altogether perfect corpse. The lack of gore and blood in DEAD RINGER simply confirms its status as an LA noir masquerading as a horror film–at least in the advertising.

In spite of the “Addams Family” harpsichord that does its spidery best to keep informing us we are in a macabre situation there at the Doheny estate, the film is decidedly a thriller with noir overtones. The great Dane “Duke” who could not stand Margret De Lorca takes up with her sister which proves the undoing for glamour boy Peter Lawford. His death scene is as close as we ever get to a classic horror film moment in DEAD RINGER. I have always been fine with that, considering we already had a full-throttle performance from Davis that same year with CHARLOTTE. Davis clawing her way down the stairs as the swampy remains of Joe Cotten stands above her, a living corpse, is classic Grand Guignol.

I have to believe one of the reasons a film like DEAD RINGER stays in one’s memory so vividly is the staying power of one of the cinema’s most enduring stars. In her earlier work in films like THE STAR, Davis proved once again that she would take on a role that was unflattering and risky only to walk away with another Oscar nomination for her bravery. In BABY JANE she appeared in clown make-up that I doubt any other actress of her generation would ever have dared to do. Bette Davis deserves her iconic status alongside Joan Crawford and Olivia De Havilland. De Havilland has always given Oscar caliber performances in her work on the screen, and even in her moment of despair, making LADY IN A CAGE–an unfortunate misfire and not her fault–she still gave a stunning performance. The film itself is just too nasty for its own good.

I still have not seen the remake of DEAD RINGER, done around 1986 as a made-for-television affair entitled KILLER IN THE MIRROR. I remain confidant that it will have little effect on my admiration for the 1964 version which still, like all cult films that you revisit time and again, is “Like seeing an old friend” come to life, another line from BABY JANE, when Crawford finally is allowed to read her fan mail…this was a remark made by a fan of Blanche Hudson after watching MOONGLOW…a fictitious title for one of Crawford’s early films for MGM.

Both Crawford and Davis had their careers revitalized after BABY JANE. Davis fared a little better for the rest of the 60′s whereas Joan had to suffer for the likes of Herman Cohen and Bill Castle. Davis did not get out of this unscathed either; Joan may have bowed out in a cave in England with TROG as her swansong, yet never knowing when to quit seems to have died with Garbo because Bette Davis just had to make WICKED STEPMOTHER before saying goodbye to her adoring public. We must forgive them both since it was never about the money, it was just one more curtain call–or as Edie would have put it, “Where am I going to spend it–OUTER SPACE?”

Films in Reviews’ own David Del Valle will be signing copies of his
book LOST HORIZONS BENEATH THE HOLLYWOOD SIGN on October 8th at 2pm
at DARK DELICACIES BOOKSHOP in BURBANK (3512 West Magnolia Boulevard, Burbank, CA 91505-2818).

I have sitting on my desk two constant reminders of the Brothers Coen: one is a snow globe from FARGO, their hit film crossover to the Big Time. In this globe stands a wood shredder with a bloody leg sticking out as the last piece to be disposed of. It is delightfully macabre, especially when you shake it and it begins to snow like a Christmas in Hell. The second item is an 8×10 photo of Boris Karloff bowling from SCARFACE, given to me by Peter Bogdanovich in gratitude for an early review of mine for TARGETS, the film which proved to be the swansong for the iconic Karloff.

The task is of trying to put a new spin on what has become a phenomenon in film history. THE BIG LEBOWSKI has followed the classic trajectory of Cult films by not being successful when it first came out since the critics were waiting for a follow-up to FARGO and were greeted with this very strange dark comedy which references so many other film styles and directors. I will say right now that I am not going to spend the next paragraphs comparing THE BIG LEBOWSKI to THE BIG SLEEP. If there is anyone still in the dark about this just watch the many supplementals on the anniversary edition DVD to savor a wealth of trivia on the subject. For the record that film was indeed a blueprint for what follows in the Coen brothers film, however it is a disservice to say that is all it is for this film. I believe it will be discussed and reexamined for decades to come.

THE BIG LEBOWSKI is one of the very finest cult films because you can watch it endless times and find new details to savor.

Boris Karloff bowling in SCARFACE.

The Coens are a bit like Preston Sturges in their off-kilter humor concerning the American dream. Like Sturges they have a stock company of actors like Steve Buscemi who turn up with regularity in their films; in fact you will never understand why Buscemi is always being told to “Shut the fuck up” by John Goodman’s character if you have not seen him in FARGO…you see, he can’t shut up in that film to save his life. My personal take on THE BIG LEBOWSKI is more like a riff on the most overused passage in film, O FORTUNA from Carl Orff’s CARMINA BURANA. In it, the known world is ruled by the empress Fortune on whose wheel mankind spins, stopping at points no human being can fully depend on for his lot in life …and so it is with The Dude.

I don’t think so many years later you can separate for one moment the performance of Jeff Bridges from the success of the film with its now legendary fans. The Coen brothers wrote this film for Bridges and it fits him like a glove. First of all Bridges has aged into one of the best actors of his generation, fully coming into his own after the death of his father Lloyd. It was as if Jeff knew it would have been wrong to so totally overshadow the elder Bridges as an actor in his own lifetime, although Bridges has been nominated for the Oscar from almost the start of his career. The photo from Bogdanovich is always a reminder of that since Jeff was up for the Oscar for THE LAST PICTURE SHOW.

I have noticed that a lot of ink has been spent on describing this film as a “Neo-Noir” and while it does adhere to that genre I think it is more appropriate to refer to THE BIG LEBOWSKI as an L.A. Noir since, like Polanski’s CHINATOWN and Boorman’s POINT BLANK, it is so much a part of the Los Angeles scene. The Film Noir tropes are in abundance throughout the film but always within the landscape of this city of angels, however fallen. Perhaps it is safe to say the film is a post-modernist L.A. Noir as we follow The Dude into the now-defunct Holly Lanes Bowling Alley in Santa Monica, where I observed we never see The Dude actually do any bowling. My favorite character, played by Coen Brothers regular John Turturro, is wildly over the top as Jesus (to be pronounced with a hard J). The competitive bowler is in fact a rival who also happens to be a convicted sex offender; one of the great moments is where Jesus has to make himself known to the neighborhood in which he has recently relocated, so he goes door to door with a hard-on in his pants. Only the Coen brothers, or perhaps John Waters, would have thought of that.

Much has been made of the Busby Berkeley-inspired dream sequences, in particular the one involving a cover of The First Edition’s JUST DROPPED IN (TO SEE WHAT CONDITION MY CONDITION WAS IN). This is the piece de resistance of THE BIG LEBOWSKI for me and is set in motion by an homage of sorts to MURDER MY SWEET (also a Marlowe), this time with Dick Powell instead of Bogie. Bridges is dressed in a workman’s overalls with movements right out of Robert Crumb’s KEEP ON TRUCKIN’, constantly reinforcing The Dude’s counterculture persona, which Bridges can summon with ease since he is a well-known stoner in real life as well.

The current success of the Coen Brothers reboot of TRUE GRIT, which also stars Bridges, allows one to observe the progression of The Dude in reverse, even in the final days of the Old West. I don’t think it was an accident that we have Sam Elliot’s iconic sage cowboy known simply as The Stranger introduce THE BIG LEBOWSKI in the first place.

From the very opening cues of TUMBLING TUMBLEWEEDS the film references the Old West (that perhaps exists now only in an alternative universe) from the current west coast of stoners and freaks, but as The Stranger tells us, “Sometimes, there’s a man, well, he’s the man for his time and place.” The Dude is that if nothing else as he tries to avoid hassles but, once involved, does what he can to abide–and we all know The Dude abides.

I was one of many film historians who arrived late to the party when it came to appreciating the charms of THE BIG LEBOWSKI since it was such a departure (or so I thought) from what we expected from the Brothers Coen, yet after repeated viewings it is my belief that this is their masterpiece. As with most things in art you have to reexamine the work over and over to fully come to terms with what you are seeing, perhaps for the first time.

This film will always be Jeff Bridges’ signature role even though he has reached further in his craft with films like CRAZY HEART, in which he ceases to act and simply inhabits his characters like a second skin. It staggers me to recall the bronzed glamour boy Jeff was in films like AGAINST ALL ODDS and THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTFOOT and then watch as he transforms into old age with a range one could not have seen coming. Bridges has always observed the conventional form of masculinity, only to play a different take in each of his films of what it really takes to be a man. For all his ineptness in LEBOWSKI he remains a man, in fact, The Dude. You can urinate on his rug but never on his pride.

Curtis Harrington’s NIGHT TIDE, which opened the Venice International Film Festival in 1961, secured the director a reputation (already known, like his colleague Kenneth Anger, for an avant-garde style of film-making) as an auteur in the horror genre at a time when very little had been written about such films. Curtis himself was a pioneer in the field of film scholarship having written extensively on the subject as early as 1952. There were two directors that became influences on Curtis’s work, the most important being Joseph Von Sternberg, to whom Curtis would devote an entire monograph for the Museum of Modern Art. The second would be Val Lewton, whose work at RKO on a string of B-horror films served as a blueprint for much of what we admire in NIGHT TIDE today.

There is an irony in having NIGHT TIDE open a festival in Venice, Italy, when the film itself represents a time capsule of a now-vanished era that was Venice, California, circa 1960.

At that time the California version of Venice (complete with faux canals, used to great effect a couple of years before by Orson Welles in TOUCH OF EVIL) was inhabited by a sub-culture of coffee house beatniks, free-thinking bohemians adrift in a sea of jazz and cigarette smoke. Curtis opens NIGHT TIDE in just such an atmosphere, staging Dennis Hopper’s first encounter with Mora (a suspected sea siren played by Linda Lawson) in a smoky jazz club called the “Blue Grotto.”

This introduction differs considerably from, say, Simone Simon’s introduction in Val Lewton’s CAT PEOPLE, which takes place at the zoo where she charms Kent Smith. Yet the connection is the same, for both these women share a repressed dread of their inner selves; both are morbidly drawn to folklore regarding their backgrounds, and neither can escape the past. This theme is also found in Lewton’s other films, especially THE SEVENTH VICTIM, which was one of Harrington’s personal favorites.

The psychosexual tension between Mora and her admirer, played rather timidly by Dennis Hopper (of all people) at a stage in his career where he was still untouched by what was to come so he was still able to convey innocence. Hopper is dressed in what has been described as a “Homoerotic sailor suit” by some in Harrington’s inner circle since Curtis always told the story of how he went to a tailor and had a specially-designed costume for Dennis that was very tight and revealing in a way the Navy would never have sanctioned. The outfit was then re-dyed to an off-white so it would not photograph so bright; the result nearly got Hopper thrown in the brig since he was stopped one night after filming by the Navy patrol for being out in a dirty uniform. Curtis was very amused by Dennis telling him that he was propositioned by men several times during the filming–but only when he was wearing his sailor suit. Curtis would always end the anecdote by saying, “Well, I never really knew if Dennis ever took any of them up on it.”

For the record, Dennis Hopper has gone on record saying that at this early stage in his career he did “flirt with homosexuality as just another life experience.” Otherwise I do not share the theory held by some critics that NIGHT TIDE has a “homosexual agenda,” just because of the director’s orientation. Curtis brought this up with me once when I was interviewing him about another director–James Whale. He reminded me that in the 30′ and 40′s these kind of questions were never asked and as far as any of Whale’s films having a “gay agenda,” he replied, “Bullshit.

Jimmy just made damn good movies, the only thing that might hold water in that regard was his camp sense of humor, which I share as well.. In fact Harrington cast his films in much the same manner as Whale. In NIGHT TIDE for example we have the actress Marjorie Eaton as the fortune-telling Madame Romanovitch, very camp, dressed in such a way that she looks a bit like Dr Pretorius in Whale’s BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN; in fact in close-up she almost looks like him in drag.

Curtis explained to me the genesis for the film during one of our interviews done over the nearly three decades we knew one another. “As a boy growing up in Beaumont, California, there was nothing much to do except go to the library and it was there in the stacks that I discovered Edgar Allan Poe. After that I was hooked on the macabre for the rest of my life. I found more to read at the local drugstore that stocked all the pulp magazines of the day including WEIRD TALES and another one called BLACK CAT. They introduced me to H.P. Lovecraft, Robert Bloch and William Hope Hodgson. It was Hodgson’s HOUSE ON THE BORDERLAND that led to me trying my hand at writing. One of my first efforts was under his influence, THE SECRET OF THE SEA, since much of his weird fiction involved the sea. I was always drawn to the ocean and of course reading Lovecraft at the same time gave me a sense of dread and horror about the sea since he used it as a metaphor for all manner of horrors. In any case this bit of writing paved the way for my first real screenplay, NIGHT TIDE.”

Curtis had acquired some distribution grants through Roger Corman’s Filmgroup. With that in hand he then found a partner in a young Armenian named Aram Kantarian. Soon the two of them managed to raise money (the total budget for NIGHT TIDE was about $75,000). Now they were ready to cast the film and Curtis remembered meeting a rising young talent at one of the local coffee house screenings for his experimental films; that talent was of course Dennis Hopper.

Hopper had scored some attention in small roles for director’s George Stevens and Nick Ray and was now ready (at least in Harrington’s eyes) to play a lead. As Curtis recalled, “Dennis was a bit of a firebrand by then, inventive, energetic, emotional and sensitive, all the qualities I needed for Johnny to be.” The only person on set not to respond to these charms was Hopper’s leading lady, Linda Lawson. Long before I thought about writing about this film I discovered that Linda lived about six blocks from me, having run into her at the local post office. I was invited over for a drink one evening and she had this to say about her co-star: “Dennis Hopper had a lot of issues both professionally and personally. I thought he was attractive enough yet there was something in those eyes of his that warned me off on some level. He was fine for the first couple of days and then out of the blue he shows up at my apartment saying to me, ‘We need to relate better if we are going to work together, okay?’ So he come into my apartment and immediately goes into my kitchen and crawls under the table. I mean, it frightened me! He rolled up into a ball and refused to come out, acting like a lunatic. When I finally got him to get up and talk to me it was obvious he was on something. I knew very little about drugs then and now, so I was not prepared at all to deal with somebody who was. The next day I confronted him on the set away from Curtis and told Dennis if this or anything like it ever happened again I would walk off the picture for good. From that point on we were clear with each other but my coldness towards him affected my relationship with Curtis, who began to dislike me and to this day he never attempted get in touch for screenings or anything. As far as the film goes I still receive fan mail about it… If I am remembered for anything it will be for playing the mermaid Mora in NIGHT TIDE.”

Perhaps the most fascinating character in NIGHT TIDE is that of Marjorie Cameron, the mysterious woman in black who speaks to Mora in the Blue Grotto. This is the famous connection between this film and Lewton’s CAT PEOPLE. In Lewton’s film Elizabeth Russell, made-up to resemble a cat-woman, speaks to Simone Simon in a strange language referring to her as “my sister.” Harrington pays homage to this moment by having Cameron do much the same thing, speaking to Linda Lawson in phonetic Greek, a task Cameron achieved by memorizing each word at Curtis’s request.

Since nearly every review regarding NIGHT TIDE considers it a kind of remake of the 1942 CAT PEOPLE, I think it is important to comment here that without the presence of Cameron as the “sea witch” the comparison simply does not hold water because CAT PEOPLE is a legitimate horror film with a supernatural shape-shifter whereas NIGHT TIDE explains the supernatural away in the final reel as a ruse concocted by Gavin Muir’s sea captain as a means to eliminate all of Mora’s suitors. The wonderful thing about NIGHT TIDE is how Harrington creates a void for speculation since even the sea captain has no knowledge of the lady in black whatsoever. Cameron appears at key moments in Mora’s courtship with Johnny. She appears to great effect during Mora’s fever dance on the beach which ends with her collapse. More importantly in a sequence Curtis considered the best in the film: Johnny follows the lady in black across the seedy landscape of Venice until she leads him magically to the captain’s front door (a location which turned out to be silent screen actress Mae Murray’s old villa) and then disappears once again. Cameron even figures in Johnny’s dream of Mora reclining on a rock with her mermaid tail; as Johnny reaches for her she dissolves into Cameron. Elizabeth Russell, the counterpart in Lewton’s version, only appears at the wedding table to utter the famous “My sister” line. There is no need to see her again because the audience has enough visual proof that Simone does indeed belong to a race of cat women. Only in Johnny’s dream while Mora is taking a shower do we get any sense that if Mora was to have sex with him she would then morph slowly from a mermaid into an octopus, strangling him to death. Every supernatural event can be accounted for in Harrington’s film except the lady in black–the elusive Cameron.

Marjorie Cameron was so much more than just a cameo in the lives of those who knew her. A woman of vast intellect and abilities, she moved in both artistic and occult circles in Los Angeles and anywhere else she traveled during her lifetime. She appeared in films for both Curtis Harrington and Kenneth Anger, influencing both men for the rest of their lives. Cameron’s appearance in Anger’s INAGURATION OF THE PLEASURE DOME was a mind-bending experience for Kenneth as he saw in her the Scarlet Woman as described by Aleister Crowley. Cameron was accustomed to this title, having received it originally from her late husband Jack Parsons, who recognized her power early on. With red flaming hair and piercing green eyes she dominated all in her circle, so much so that she eclipsed the great Anais Nin as the dominant figure in Anger’s film. In fact the two occultists would move in together after the film was done. Curtis devoted one of his short films to her, THE WORMWOOD STAR. The title alone is important as it represents a magical child created by ritual. Cameron and her late husband devoted much of their time to performing this dangerous ritual known as “The Babylon Working.” Cameron is such an important figure in her own right that rather than try inadequately to explain it all here I suggest you read the new book regarding her life, also entitled THE WORMWOOD STAR. Curtis’s film documents her paintings for posterity since she burned them all after the film was completed as per the instructions laid down in the aforementioned experiment.

NIGHT TIDE is paced like a fever dream populated with eccentric well-meaning characters who attempt to save the young man from himself as the object of his affections moves closer and closer to her pre-determined end. This was a staple in Lewton’s universe and it applies here as well. It would take Curtis a few more years to develop his style more along the lines of his idol Von Sternberg, which would culminate with the making of GAMES and later WHATS THE MATTER WITH HELEN. For the time being Harrington’s obsession with film history would take the place of his later obsession with decor and the grandstanding of diva-like personalities such as Shelley Winters and Simone Signoret.

The other personality to emerge from this film was actress Luana Anders, whose grace and beauty made her a natural for the kind of films about to be made as the 60′s came into their own. Dennis Hopper was taken with her straight away, using her much later in his own film EASY RIDER. Curtis would also work with her again in his THE KILLING KIND.

Luana recalled her time with Harrington with great joy, as she sensed his abilities as a director from this first encounter. “Curtis knew his business and how to handle his actors. His knowledge was encyclopedic when it came to film history and more to the point he knew exactly what he wanted in each shot. We had a great cameraman in Vilis Lapenieks; he did all of the exteriors on our film with Floyd Crosby, then working with us on the interiors. I would work with Floyd again with Roger Corman soon after this.” Luana would also attract the attention of Jack Nicholson who would employ her whenever he could.

Curtis would most likely not have shared Luana’s view of his directing skill with actors at the time of shooting NIGHT TIDE as he admitted to me on several occasions he shared the same plight as Roger Corman did in his early days of directing films, which is a total lack of understanding of the acting process. Both Dennis Hopper, and then later on Shelley Winters, were versed in the Actors Studio and the process known as ‘sense memory.’ Both Corman and Harrington would go to acting workshops like Jeff Corey’s to learn more about how to handle their actors. The result of course gave them both insight, although Roger would later rely on hiring actors that already knew their business (like Vincent Price), allowing him to do what he did best which was to produce. Curtis Harrington was never a producer but learned to guide his actors, pro and novice, into doing their best work for him in his later films. Dennis Hopper was only 24 years old when they did NIGHT TIDE and yet he trusted Curtis to present him for perhaps the only time in his career as the embodiment of youthful energy and optimism.

One of the great assets in NIGHT TIDE is the score by David Raksin, who came onboard as a personal favor to Curtis. The result is a musical evocation of the Venice beach culture with its coffee house poetry and jazz underscoring, and when necessary the danger that shadows Johnny as he pursues his siren into the depths of the ocean to the seedy underbelly of Venice itself. Raksin was known for his score of the classic Film Noir LAURA, a film which is referenced here by Curtis’s casting of Gavin Muir as the old sea captain who may have discovered a lost race of Sea people” of which Mora is a direct descendant. As played by Muir, he resembles Clifton Webb’s Waldo Lydecker from LAURA more than the father figure he is meant to portray. Curtis had wanted to cast Peter Lorre in the role, which would have brought him closer to working with another of Von Sternberg’s stars since Lorre had made CRIME AND PUNISHMENT with the great director in 1935. Lorre would have brought a real manic obsessive character to the table, rather than the decadent, effete personality as played by Muir.

Curtis once told me a story of running into his idol Von Sternberg at a screening of THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN at the County Museum where the great director asked him why he kept coming back time and again to see a film he already knew by heart. Curtis replied, “Well, Joe, why do you listen to great music over and over again? The answer is because it gives me pleasure,” and this is how I feel about the films of Curtis Harrington. I have seen NIGHT TIDE many times and each and every screening allows me back into the sinister chiaroscuro landscape of his films. He always tried to broaden the poetic meaning of all his films no matter how absurd the premise might be. Curtis always lived a supernatural aesthetic. One visit to his home spoke volumes about his personality and his art. The Trompe L’oeil moulding that laced the ceilings of every room in his Art Nouveau retreat, props from his films, an evening slipper worn by Dietrich, and framed prints of Vampire bats (of which I now have two–a gift from George Edwards, Harrington’s oft-time producer). You literally stepped into the house of Poe, or better still, the house of Harrington.

NIGHT TIDE is probably one of the most evocative representations of Edgar Allan Poe in a film to date even though it is not formally based on any one literary work of the divine Edgar. The atmosphere and tone are Poe’s, as is the fatal woman our sailor lad Dennis Hopper pines to be with. Whether she is called Morella, Lenore, Annabel Lee or even Mora she is still the radiant maiden whom the angels called by name.

Curtis Harrington might have been marginalized in his lifetime, however his legacy as an avant-garde, esoteric, occultist film director can no longer be ignored. To the end he dedicated his life to self-expression of the highest order and I for one will remain in his debt for the remarkable body of work he leaves behind forever more in this kingdom by the sea.

HELLO, I’M BUTCH: A TRIBUTE TO THEATER OF BLOOD

The most defining moment for me in what may well be Vincent Price’s signature film, THEATRE OF BLOOD, comes towards the end of the second act when Coral Browne arrives to get her hair done with a policeman in tow, since half of her Critics Circle has been gruesomely dispatched by a very irate actor named Edward Lionheart, played to perfection by Vincent Price. Coral as ‘Miss Moon” seems to have missed her appointment at first, or so says the rather gay-looking young man (Diana Rigg in drag) complete with a shaggy moustache on duty at the reception booth.

However ‘Butch” is available and it appears to be her lucky day because “Butch is very chic, does Princess Margaret’s hair, and chicks like that.” Miss Moon is persuaded, and at that moment, ascending a spiral staircase is Butch, a rather tall man with a fuzzy Afro hairdo wearing a white blouse emblazoned with very Tom of Finland male nudes. “Hello, I’m Butch. Hey, dishy-dishy hair, can’t wait to get my hands on it.”

The film is overwrought with black humor and gay humor like this.

During her appointment, Miss Moon has her hands tied as Butch remarks, “This is something new from ‘Gay Paree,’” for what will become her final hairdo. “Oh, I wish you would let me do something camp with the color, Darling, I mean, like flame with ash highlights.” Price then proceeds to fry her to oblivion while quoting the Bard’s ‘Henry IV, Part One.’

The real genius of Antony Greville-Bell’s screenplay is how seamlessly he weaves Shakespeare’s most violent moments with clever bits of homage to Vincent Price’s long career onstage and in films. For example, the first time we see Price he is made up to look like a policeman. Vincent’s very first appearance on a stage was that of a policeman in the play CHICAGO. “I won that role by being the only one around at the time in London that really knew how to chew gum.” His reputation as a gourmet cook is exploited in the sequence where he exacts his revenge on another one of the nine critics; this time it’s Robert Morley playing a flamboyantly gay reviewer, in pink suits with two poodles, both wearing bows in their hair. “This is your dish, Meredith Merridew.” Price is faux-French with a goatee. The two actors would later appear on Vincent’s televised cooking show COOKING PRICEWISE, which aired in the UK not long after this film wrapped. Morley is disgustingly done-in by revising the text of Titus Andronicus so that Queen Tamora is now a decidedly different Queen, devouring large portions of poodle pie until he chokes to death on his “babies.”

Antony Greville-Bell only wrote three screenplays (the other two being THE STRANGE VENGENCE OF ROSALIE and PERFECT FRIDAY), both quite different in design from this film, which is without question his best work. At first glance the concept for THEATRE OF BLOOD does indeed look like a cash-in on Price’s former success with THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES and its sequel, DR PHIBES RISES AGAIN, since both films deal with revenge –this time around in exceedingly spectacular ways. But these films, as directed by Robert Fuest, bear little resemblance to what would follow, since Fuest’s visual sense always came first, creating an Art Deco fantasy landscape where little if any blood is actually shed on camera. He perfected this on the hit TV series THE AVENGERS, which never duplicated any real violence or bloodshed during its long and successful run. If Robert Fuest had directed THEATRE OF BLOOD the result would have been visually stunning but it would not have had the Jacobean cruelty Douglas Hickox gave the proceedings.

One of the delights to be found in THEATRE OF BLOOD is of course the elaborate ways in which Lionheart uses Shakespeare’s text to exact his revenge. The only one of the celebrated actors not to be put to death was Jack Hawkins, who is instead made to follow Othello’s lead and strangle his wife played by the much loved Diana Dors,( one of the UK’s reigning sex symbols of the 50′s, she remained a favorite by turning to character acting with great success). There is a six degrees of separation at work here because Hawkins, who was battling throat cancer at the time of filming, had his larynx removed so it was necessary for an actor to dub his voice for film work. The actor chosen for this job was Charles Gray (widely known for his role in the ROCKY HORROR SHOW as the narrator as well as the Bond villain in DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER).

Charles was also a close friend of Coral Browne, having appeared with her on stage and screen. Charles Gray was most certainly introduced to Price during the making of this film. The three of them would work together less than two years later when Gray joined Vincent and Coral for what would be their first appearance on stage together in the West End performing Jean Anouilh’s ARDELE at the Queens Theatre. This Production, while lavishly produced with these three respected actors, should have been more successful than it was, especially with the lukewarm reception Price received from the critics. It would take the life of Oscar Wilde to finally place Price back into the,spotlight of the theater world he abandoned so many years ago for Hollywood.

I had an opportunity to question Vincent Price about this film during our time together in San Francisco where he was being honored at the Palace of Fine Arts. He was staying at the Clift Hotel for the duration and invited me up to his suite for one of our many taped interviews regarding his career. A portion of this interview is available on my DVD, VINCENT PRICE: THE SINISTER IMAGE. For many years Price always cited TOMB OF LIGEIA as his personal favorite, however time can alter many a perception so that afternoon he amended that by making THEATRE OF BLOOD his most enjoyable experience in filmmaking.

“I always knew something wonderful would happen to me before I turned 65,” he said. When Price made the film in 1973 he was at a crossroads both professionally and personally as well. His contract with American International had long since soured to the point of no return; MADHOUSE had been a disaster, which was a shame since the concept of a horror version of both ALL ABOUT EVE and SUNSET BLVD. was enticing to be sure. His off-screen hostility to actor Robert Quarry could have been an asset if the powers at AIP had not rushed the production with shoddy production values, not to mention cutting the film during its editing stage until it made little sense.

“I didn’t want to do THEATRE OF BLOOD at first since I had just been offered a summer season at the Rep Theatre in Missouri. They offered me a chance to play Becket in Elliot’s MURDER IN THE CATHEDRAL as well as O’Neill’s LONG DAY’S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT. This always seemed to happen to me when I had a chance to return to the real craft of acting, something to feed the soul.” Price had to decline the engagement in order to make the film. His apprehension melted away when he finally sat down and read the screenplay. “The script was absolutely brilliant with wonderful dialogue. I simply could not wait to play this character of Edward Lionheart. I mean, what actor would not jump at the chance to give back some of his own to the critics?”

The cast of THEATRE OF BLOOD was also a factor in Price’s enthusiasm for the project. Hickox had assembled the crème-de-la-creme of the British stage for extended cameos as the nine critics Edward Lionheart dispatches with the aid of the Bard’s text. Aside from Coral Browne and Robert Morley there were also Jack Hawkins, Arthur Lowe, Dennis Price, Robert Coote, Harry Andrews, and Diana Dors. Vincent’s co-star was Diana Rigg, whom Price adored from the very first meeting. “Diana is one of the best actresses in England as well as being a great deal of fun to know…She worked in drag during portions of our film, during the scene where I murder the lady that was to become my wife, Coral. Diana came on set wearing these tight trousers with a large sock stuffed in her pants. I roared with laughter, as did the crew. They loved her, as do I.”

The father/daughter chemistry between Price and Diana Rigg helps establish his character as more sinned against than sinning even in his most gruesome moments of mayhem. Her death scene towards the end, taken from Lear, is quite moving as she lies in Price’s arms reciting the lines she had played ten years before under the direction of Peter Brook with the great Paul Scofield as Lear.

Price would go on from this project with the support of his new wife to finally return to the stage where he would triumph with his magnificent one-man-show DIVERSIONS AND DELIGHTS, playing Oscar Wilde, the role his late friend Laird Cregar also played back in the forties.

Both men were under contract to 20th Century Fox at the time. Vincent did the eulogy at Cregar’s funeral and then replaced his friend in DRAGONWYCK playing the Gothic character he would later perfect in HOUSE OF USHER. Price had enjoyed a resurgence in his career after the success of these eight Corman Poe films, which firmly established him in the film world as the new master of the macabre.

It would however be the unexpected critical success of THEATER OF BLOOD some ten years later to restore his confidence as an icon Vincent remained over the moon during the duration of the filming of THEATRE OF BLOOD, for here he was, at last surrounded by his peers, all respected actors in the theater, being directed by a young and talented man, with brilliant dialogue allowing him the opportunity to speak some of Shakespeare’s most profound lines while basically being Vincent Price as well. His soliloquy from Hamlet, spoken in front of all these wonderful actors while billowing curtains fly around him as he moves outside along the railing of the high-rise offices of the Critics Circle, is a tour-de-force beautifully played by one of America’s most underrated actors. In this moment, both the personal and profession lives of Vincent Price became one, allowing his audience who had remained faithful for five decades to finally see him reach beyond the cardboard castles of Roger Corman’s Poe-scapes into a Brave New World of both Gods and monsters.

THE EAGLE HAS LANDED: A look back at NIGHT OF THE EAGLE a.k.a. BURN, WITCH, BURN

“I DO NOT BELIEVE.”

Written emphatically on a blackboard in the presence of his students, Professor Norman Taylor (Peter Wyngarde) dispels belief in witchcraft and all the trappings of the supernatural. However, Taylor’s wife, Tansy (Janet Blair), has been liberated from so much scientific logic by a mind-expanding experience in Jamaica, where a witch doctor literally brought the dead back to life, and it is Taylor’s discovery of her convictions that serves as the catalyst for BURN, WITCH, BURN.

Produced in England in 1961 under the title NIGHT OF THE EAGLE (at a time when studios on both sides of the Atlantic were making exceptional genre films) American International Pictures chose to distribute the film as BURN, WITCH, BURN, adding a deliciously demonic rendering of an incantation voiced by Paul Frees to protect the viewing audience from deadly forces from the pits of Hell. This created yet another similarity to the already renowned Jacques Tourneur film NIGHT OF THE DEMON (1958, known as CURSE OF THE DEMON stateside).

Both films are now staples in most retrospectives of the Horror genre anywhere around the world. They have secured the reputation as two of the finest examples of black magic ever put on the screen. Terence Fisher’s masterful THE DEVIL RIDES OUT (1967) joins the trio, even having its title changed as well for American consumption to THE DEVIL’S BRIDE to cash in on the world wide success of ROSEMARY’S BABY.

NIGHT OF THE EAGLE was directed by Sidney Hayers, whose only other excursion into fantastic cinema was 1960′s CIRCUS OF HORRORS (featuring the icy villainy of Anton Diffring) regarded now as a truly “Sadian” motion picture whose reputation was linked to Arthur Crabtree’s lurid potboiler HORRORS OF THE BLACK MUSEUM as well as the infamous PEEPING TOM by Michael Powell. I must interject however that Powell’s film is now regarded as a masterpiece while the other two films pale in comparison; they still however form a rather unholy trinity of genre films of the period that created X certificates for all three by the British censor. This of course only made these films more desirable in the future as video nasties, constantly on-demand by collectors and fans alike.

After the success of NIGHT OF THE EAGLE Hayers went on to helm many memorable episodes of ‘THE AVENGERS in Britain, continuing to work on both sides of the Atlantic until his death. NIGHT still remains his most accomplished work. The fortuitous collaboration of writers Richard Matheson, Charles Beaumont with George Baxt, turned Fritz Leiber Jr.’s thrice-filmed novel CONJURE WIFE into a taut, gripping screenplay, mysteriously overshadowed by the literary ghost of M.R James, whose own excursions into the supernatural – OH, WHISTLE, AND I’LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD – is referenced in Hayers’ film, not to mention Val Lewton’s I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE. Peter Wyngarde had just completed a career-defining role in director Jack Clayton’s version of the James novella (his performance was spellbinding as the lustful ghost of Peter Quint without relying on a word of dialogue), when he was cast as Norman Taylor in Hayer’s film.

Leiber’s work first arrived on the screen as part of the Inner Sanctum series Universal Pictures had created to showcase Lon Chaney Jr. after the success of THE WOLF MAN. WEIRD WOMAN featured Evelyn Ankers in a part similar to Margaret Johnston in Hayers’ version. This adaptation is certainly not faithful to its source, making NIGHT OF THE EAGLE the definitive version of Leiber’s novel. In 1980 a third, somewhat-pirated version, WITCHES BREW, was made without giving Leiber a screen credit. This time it was played for laughs, attempting a “horror comedy” with Richard Benjamin and Teri Garr, and featuring screen legend Lana Turner in one of her final roles. I am sure the producers were hoping for a “Baby Jane” moment here as we watched yet another Hollywood leading lady finally playing a witch.

The witch in Sidney Hayers’ version fares much better in the capable hands of Janet Blair, perhaps the least likely candidate for such a role, and she surprised her director and co-star by rising to the challenge, playing Tansy with great style and conviction. I interviewed Janet Blair for the premiere laser disc presentation of the film. The still-vivacious actress remembered the production with enthusiasm. She recalled that her first day of shooting was Tansy’s drowning scene off the Northern coast of England: “It was bitterly cold and I had to go over this rocky cliff and continue to walk into the ocean for what seemed to be an eternity. By the time I was retrieved out of the water, I was frozen and soaked to the bone. One of the grips ran up to me and made me drink from a thermos which was filled with Brandy. Being a non-drinker, I immediately spat it out; so much for the glamorous work of a movie star.

“Originally I was told Peter Finch was to be my leading man, but he became ill so Peter Wyngarde took over at a moment’s notice. I quickly became utterly bewitched by my co-star, who was so dramatic and sexy that I nearly forgot I was acting. I do believe this was one of Peter’s largest film roles at the time, and I remember after a day’s shooting he drove me to my hotel and continued that atmosphere of a happily married couple. I adored working with him.”

As Sidney Hayers fondly recalled to me, the shooting was very quick and fun to do. After some initial misgivings about the casting of Wyngarde and Blair, he was quite pleased to find these two professionals had great chemistry together. He remarked that even Ms. Blair said at the time that she gave this role her all and considered it to be some of her finest work in film. Hayers also remembers that the actress playing the true villainess of the piece, Margaret Johnston, had by then become a theatrical agent representing one of the actors in the film. Hayers persuaded her to play the unbalanced Flora, ruthlessly driven to practice the black arts against Tansy’s white magic, thereby creating one of the screen’s most memorable witches alongside such greats as Kay Walsh, whose turn in Hammer’s THE WITCHES set such a standard.

THE INNOCENTS

The giant stone eagle which terrorizes Wyngarde was in actuality an eight foot styrofoam figure that could do no harm should it fall from great heights. The script called for a full camera shot as this prop is transformed from its solid state into a living, winged gargoyle. As Hayers put it, “It is Peter Wyngarde’s acting and intense focus that really allows the audience to suspend disbelief, that and of course having a cameraman like Reggie Wyer, a real craftsman with monochrome photography, as well as an editor like Ralph Sheldon.”

Peter Wyngarde made a lasting impression in THE INNOCENTS, leaving audiences wanting to see more of this charismatic performer. As Hayers recalled, “Peter was quite a performer both on and off camera. The crew was very amused by one thing in particular: you see Peter was very aware of his physique at the time, since he took great care to be in perfect shape, and remember, in those days it was not so common to see actors going to the gym to work out. We even had him shirtless at one point in the film. However we had to keep tightening his long shots as he wore the tightest trousers in England! I mean, he left little to the imagination as to his endowments if you follow me. I don’t think this ever came up again as long as I have been directing!”

NIGHT OF THE EAGLE was one of those films I saw for the first time at the drive-in, and I carry that memory with great pleasure since it is difficult to explain to today’s film buffs the weekend ritual of going to see a film in your car, at night, out of doors, under the stars. The nocturnal trappings of the Horror genre lends itself to such circumstances perfectly.

Of course it helps to be at a certain age as well and the drive-in was a haven for teenagers to escape from the rigors of school and parents. Almost all of the films produced by American International were shown at the drive-in, and BURN, WITCH, BURN was no exception. I can still see myself sitting in the car, windows rolled up, speakers turned to full volume, as Paul Frees begins to speak to us from a pitch-black screen. By the time he is through and we are all under the protection of his spell, the titles begin to appear: BURN, WITCH, BURN…

I DO BELIEVE.

THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY: A CARNIVAL ENCOUNTER

While the drive-in was a rite of passage for the baby boomers of my generation I must give television its due as an influence as well. Outside of the Shock Theater packages of Universal Horrors televised in the early 60′s the one film that really made a lasting impression on me was CARNIVAL OF SOULS. This low-budget mood piece is best served if you are by yourself late at night watching it unfold between station breaks advertising used cars.

While not a great film by any means, the lack of star power (in fact the whole film was done by unknowns in front of and behind the camera) allows the viewer to drift into a dream state within the film itself. vThe scenes that really make you jump all involve the film’s director, the late Herk Harvey. His phantom-like performance while in white face–a walking dead man the likes of which we would see again in the films of George Romero–is a tour-de-force.

Now, this is a film which those of us that saw it at an impressionable age best remember as being much better than it really was, and much more frightening when convincing one of your friends to sit through it as well. I held a place of honor for CARNIVAL OF SOULS in my memory for decades until 1997.

In 1997 I was sitting in my kitchen on the corner of Beverly and Oakhurst when I noticed a tall, blond woman walking across the courtyard; even from a distance I seemed to recognize her as someone familiar to me from my distant past. She continued down the path until she reached the manager’s apartment and then went in. The manager was a woman who had worked in Hollywood for years and was now doing script-doctoring to make extra money since she had been long retired from any professional endeavors. The woman in question turned out to be none other than Candace Hilligoss, the lead in CARNIVAL OF SOULS.

Candace had the kind of face, with sharp features and large expressive eyes, that made you notice her, especially when she appeared to be frightened. Candace had in fact written a script entitled DAKOTA ASHES, a Western of sorts in the manner of LONESOME DOVE. Helen, the manager, told me later that she thought Candace had written a very commercial script and should find an agent to help her place it for a potential mini-series.

The entire afternoon was so surreal …I mean, to see someone you had watched as a child on the late, late show all of the sudden materialize at your front door really needed to be fully taken in. Candace came over to my apartment after she finished her business with Helen as she wanted to meet me, having heard I had been an agent in the business as well.

A plan had begun to take shape in my mind as she sat in my living room sipping a cup of tea: here was a bona-fide cult figure from a highly regarded horror film who had never done the convention circuit that was so much a part of my life that year, having just come back from Kevin Clement’s Chiller Theater in New Jersey. I had taken both Martine Beswicke and Barbara Steele to that venue as well as Mary Woronov.

Candace was at that time doing temp work as a secretary and was not the least bit adverse to making some money signing autographs. I explained the situation to her as best I could, knowing that at least for the first few shows she would more than likely do very well since none of the fans had ever seen her outside of midnight screenings of the now-legendary film that forever sealed her image with that of Mary Henry, a young woman trapped between the veil of life and death. Now, I need to explain that in spite of the passing of time from 1962 until what was then 1997, Candace Hilligoss looked exactly like she did in the film. This coupled with the fact that she seemed to be Mary Henry in almost every other way as well. I remember joking with her about it at the time and she quickly explained that she had studied the method with Lee Strasberg in New York as well as having done a great deal of stage work back east before marrying Nicolas Coster another New York actor who was quite successful in his own right working non stop in TV soaps as well as commercials. They divorced in 1981, and not on good terms. In fact it was her dream to sell this script of hers to television where it would then become the next LONESOME DOVE. Then it would be her great pleasure to rub all this in his face when the series went on to glory at the Emmys.

After our initial meeting Candace and I began working together in earnest to launch her first appearance as a cult star at the RAY COURTS AUTOGRAPH SHOW at the Beverly Garland hotel. The first order of business was to secure photographs from CARNIVAL for her to sign. The real problem with a film like this is that the advertising was almost non-existent. The posters were amateurish, with only half a set of lobby cards (with only two featuring her). The video poster was the best artwork so we looked around for as many of those as we could, to sell at a higher price. It would be the 8×10 stills that would provide the foundation for a table at the show. There were no National Screen Service stills from the film to be found, so in a moment of inspiration Candace decided to call her late director’s wife Pauline, who was nowvery old and nearly blind. The next day Candace came by my apartment with the news that she had indeed spoken with Pauline Harvey and she was sending us all she could find on the film to help with Candace’s plight. Candace was somewhat concerned about whether or not a nearly blind woman could locate much less choose what would be useable for fans to purchase at our table. After a few days the package arrived and she was horrified to discover that all Pauline Harvey could come up with were 35mm frames from the film itself. As soon as I saw what they were I calmed her fears by explaining that these were pure gold as they were all the great moments from the film, many of which were fantastic shots of Herk Harvey himself as the leader of the undead in that amazing pavilion at Saltair.

Director Herk Harvey in the background.

It took us nearly two and a half months to get the material ready for the show. One of the more time-consuming aspects of this were the tee-shirts that Candace insisted upon producing at her own expense, which were costly and in my opinion not the wisest of investments for a show like Ray Courts. Barbara Steele and I made the same mistake with BLACK SUNDAY tee-shirts in New Jersey and we were still trying to sell them months later at the Dark Shadows Con in LA. However, Candace would hear none of my arguments, so CARNIVAL OF SOULS tee-shirts we would sell, with Candace’s ironic signature across them saying, “Hauntingly yours.”

Director Herk Harvey

During this time I tried to discover just what did happen with her career that she only had two feature films to her credit CARNIVAL and the Del Tenny film CURSE OF THE LIVING CORPSE, whose only real claim to fame was introducing Roy Scheider to films (which of course led to a very successful career, including an Oscar). Candace could really barely remember making the film, but did tell me that Roy Scheider was okay on that particular film and that they socialized a bit after it was done; but in her own words, “Roy was never really interested in helping other actors and really never tried to help me secure parts after he became a star.”

CARNIVAL OF SOULS is still highly regarded by genre fans and certain critics who observe that while the film itself is cheaply made with amateur performers, except for perhaps Candace and Sidney Berger (who by the way was selling his autograph at conventions as well), who play well in their scenes together, the real power of this movie resides in what we imagine long after we have watched what has become a collective nightmare for all that have fallen under its spell.

Herk Harvey with Candace Hilligoss

Whatever John Clifford or Herk Harvey had in mind when they began this project, while far removed from their educational films as Centron Studio employees, the film somewhat looks like an educational film about the dangers of reckless driving as well as the pitfalls of straying too far from God’s grace, as Mary Henry surely does to find herself in the hellish limbo of non-existence. Perhaps CARNIVAL OF SOULS is best served as an influence on more prolific directors like David Lynch, and especially Francis Ford Coppola, whose APOCALYPSE NOW has Martin Sheen emerge from the water in much the way Herk Harvey does in CARNIVAL’s best moments of ghostly splendor.

Meanwhile the day of the Ray Courts show is finally at hand – three days of sitting at a table with Candace Hilligoss, meeting her public and hopefully selling much of what we spent the last two and a half months preparing for this celebration of all things ghostly. At this point all of our conversations had been about the show or her plans for her script but now another bitter demon was coming out of the closet: the dreaded remake of CARNIVAL OF SOULS produced by Wes Craven and without any input from Candace, which was all the more galling for her because of a long-cherished treatment of her own design that she showed me. In it she was back from the dead with a ghostly assistant to bridge the portal from one dimension to another. I was rather impressed with her concept of filming all the sequences in the land of the dead in black and white while the living remained in color. Candace naturally assumed that any producer intent on remaking the film would have to have its original star in tow or else the legion of its fans would fail to pay to see a remake without her.

Well, we all know what happened with the remake: it went straight into Video Hell, but unfortunately it took Candace’s dreams of a comeback with it. The irony of Candace Hilligoss is that her character in the film was a cynical, bitter woman whose lack of faith literally placed her soul in a netherworld of non-existence. Herk Harvey never made any more films like CARNIVAL, nor would Candace ever act in anything like a lead role in her career, such as it was. She always told me her ex-husband did not want her to work and as a result she let the momentum go in favor of raising two children, both of whom were now grown up and successful in their own lives.

During the three days of the convention many people came to our table with glowing things to say about Candace, how well she looked and so forth. It seemed at least for that weekend that Candace Hilligoss was at last a star. On Sunday a middle-aged woman approached the table and asked for one of the stills of Candace looking quite lovely, I think a headshot of her made right after the film. The woman began to tell Candace about the first time she saw CARNIVAL OF SOULS and how the film haunted her for years afterward, and then she fished around in her purse for a photo of her daughter to show Candace. The woman proudly displayed the picture to Candace, exclaiming, “You know, I named her after you!” For a moment Candace was speechless and seemed quite touched. Candace smiled and then said, “Oh so this young lady is named Candace, too.” The woman looked at her for a moment and then replied “Oh, no dear, I called her Mary Henry.” Candace Hilligoss changed her expression ever so slightly after hearing this, looking even more like Mary Henry than she had all afternoon.

This is the second neo-noir film I have watched in two days. The genre is definitely on the rise with young filmmakers at the moment. Oren Shai has created in 14 mins what most filmmakers cannot achieve in two hours. This short film is a tour de force on every level, especially from the cast of three players that seamlessly achieve reality in performance. Margaret Anne Florence is a revelation as female convict #1031, her focus is intense and believable in such a brief amount of time. Oren ShaI fully understands the fifties genre of ‘women in prison’ films, wisely choosing his moments with his actors to create a sense of loss and dread that is all the more remarkable since we have in a sense seen all this before. The key to the film’s success lies in Shai’s masterful command of atmosphere which never wavers.

This project deserves feature length treatment, if only to fully explore the themes presented here in the context of a prisoner awaiting her parole hearing with the sense of sudden death hovering over her sleepless existence.

In the mid-80′s there was a a terrific send-up of this genre called WOMEN BEHIND BARS, and one of the reasons for it’s success was a wonderful camp performance by the late Lu Leonard as the prison warden, channeling Hope Emerson straight out of CAGED. In Shai’s film we have a definite homage to that performance with Ashlie Atkinson as the “night guard.” She hisses her threats with great aplomb. Aprella as Laura is dressed and coiffed in the manner of Arlene Dahl from SLIGHTLY SCARLET, making her character ambiguous as to whether she will help or perhaps kill prisoner #1031 before the night is over.

CONDEMNED is a breakthrough film for Oren Shai, who should make this a feature in the manner of Jonathan Demme’s CAGED HEAT, with hopefully the same career in his future. Shai has the talent to follow Tarantino into the rarified company of young directors with an eye for detail and a love of film history which, in Shai’s case, shines like a new penny in the sunlight.

In short this is a great beginning for what I know will be a long career in films…Bravo!

To Watch CONDEMNED visit http://condemned.rockingoren.com