Hello, all. Time for another guest blog entry from America's Number 1 William Castle fan, Phoebe Heyman. Here she is to tell us about one of Castle's most famous movies, 13 Ghosts. Remember - Look through the red lens if you believe in Phoebe, and the blue lens if you don't:
Hello horror fans! I approached the original 13 Ghosts with some interest, as I was a big fan of the remake, Thir13en Ghosts, in my youth. My friend James brought it to a gathering at my house, having picked it up in a Blockbuster fire sale or something, and probably intended us all to watch it ironically. Fortunately, I enjoyed the movie and he decided to leave it at my house, where I went on to rewatch it several times for a hit of gothic imagery that harmonized with obsessively re-reading the liner notes to "Antichrist Superstar." Also: In preparing this article, I realized that I have long been mis-remembering the opening scene of Thir13en Ghosts as belonging to Se7en, a truly embarrassing conflation. Do both scenes take place in the rain, or is it just the numbers-for-letters thing?
The original 13 Ghosts is less scary, less gory and a lot more fun than the remake. It's quite gentle for a horror movie, which is reasonably unsurprising for a William Castle movie. The movie opens on a museum tour discussing the La Brea tar pits (to be later given cinematic fame in My Girl 2), setting the story in LA. The main character, Cyrus Zorba, who's been leading the tour, learns he has inherited a nearby mansion from a distant uncle, Dr. Plato Zorba. We find out that Dr. Zorba was an occultist who collected ghosts, which now live in the mansion. Cyrus Zorba and his family, hard up for rent, decide to move into the mansion, and quickly encounter the ghosts. But is the executor of the estate, Ben Rush, trying to help them deal with the ghosts, or simply to get his hands on the apocryphal fortune believed to be hidden in the house?
Every William Castle movie has a gimmick and this movie's is "Illusion-O." Viewers were given a special "ghost viewer" that featured a red and blue pane of cellophane. All the scenes featuring ghosts are tinted blue; a timid viewer could look through the blue pane of the ghost viewer and not see the ghosts. But an intrepid viewer could look through the red pane and see the ghosts (which are colored red in the film) even more clearly. In our household, we were lamenting the fact that we couldn't experience the effect when Joe remembered he had a pair of 3D glasses that came with a Harold Lloyd box set. (In the movie, the "ghost viewer" concept shows up in the plot as a pair of special goggles built by Dr. Zorba and included in the estate.) The ghosts are visible to the naked eye without the goggles, but it's fun to see them disappear or stand out even more clearly when looking through the blue or red lens.
The movie's plot is straightforward and doesn't include too many big scares, relying instead on the special effects, which depict a pretty benign host of ghosts, for excitement. The plot centers on the film's child star, Charles Herbert (as Cyrus's son Buck), who controversially received top billing over the adult actors - which seems deserved after watching the movie! Other characters include older sister Medea and a literal witch of a housekeeper, Elaine. Played by famous witch portrayer Margaret Hamilton, she ends the film with a great "stinger" conclusion. Another William Castle pick that's fun for the whole family this Halloween!
Showing posts with label William Castle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Castle. Show all posts
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Night of Terror #20: 'Mr. Sardonicus' and 'Van Helsing'
Hello, all. It's me, your horrible host, with another entry in-- sorry, going for a William Castle thing, there, in honor of tonight's entry, Mr. Sardonicus. To write about it, we have the sardonic Phoebe Heyman, and I might chime in in the comments if I feel like it. Let's give her a big "thumb's up," OK?
A few days ago we watched Mr. Sardonicus, a William Castle movie from 1961. The plot: A famous doctor, Sir Robert Cargrave of London, recently knighted for his achievements in the field of curing paralysis, receives a missive from his former fiancee, now married to the mysterious Baron Sardonicus. She beseeches Sir Robert to come for a visit, and when he arrives amidst a flurry of disturbing events, he's eventually pressed into service to protect the innocent, and maybe help the not-so-innocent. While Sir Robert is a bit too unflappable and self-confident to be the best "audience surrogate" for a horror movie, that's the only thing I can really fault about the movie, which is really fun, unexpectedly disturbing, and pretty original despite its tight plotting.
I particularly enjoyed the movie for its enthusiastic participation in the "Eastern Europe as locus of the frightening and uncivilized" motif, a trope I encountered frequently when I majored in Slavic Languages and Literatures. However, Mr. Sardonicus is notable for its commitment to an authentic setting - it's nominally set in the fictional Central/Eastern European republic of "Gorslava" but all the visible writing, like in the train station and cemetery, is real Czech, and the village scenes are pretty good too.
It was also interesting to contrast the film with Van Helsing, which we watched today: Both films are set in the abstract Mitteleuropa of . . . well, horror films, but despite coming out forty years earlier, Mr. Sardonicus actually gives a much more nuanced depiction of the region. Van Helsing claims at once to be set "in Transylvania," "on the far side of Romania," and, most bizarrely, in Budapest. Both films also draw a sharp juxtaposition between a "civilized" Western city and a heavily fictionalized, indiscriminately Eastern or Balkan rural area: London and "Gorislava," Rome and "Transylvania." Both films also depict the contrast between a large castle or estate - removed from the village milieu and owned by the aristocracy - and the surrounding rural region. In Van Helsing, the heroine Anna and her brother Velkan are the last of the Valerious family, whose huge castle stands adjacent to the "Budapest" village area. From their names, we can assume that their ancestors were not autochthonous to the region. In Mr. Sardonicus, Baron Sardonicus is originally a local, but after buying his expensive estate, he furnishes and staffs it so that it is indistinguishable from any Western counterpart. Both the Valerious and Sardonicus estates become the loci for horrible deeds and disturbing events, as if the uncanny nature of the Eastern setting must always triumph over the trappings of civilization.
The immersive location isn't the only unique quality of Mr. Sardonicus. The plot, which I don't want to reveal too much about, is a great mash-up of multiple influences: Dracula, of course, but also maybe "The Monkey's Paw." More than anything, the flashback that's the film's centerpiece reminded me of an Eastern European folk tale. The film's most unique feature, and probably its most famous, is the "Punishment Poll" that appears before the film's conclusion. The original theater audiences were given a glow-in-the-dark card with a "Thumbs Up" sign that could be turned over for the "thumbs down." William Castle comes on-screen and asks the audience to vote with the thumb, Roman Colosseum-style, on whether the villain has received enough punishment or if he deserves some more. Unfortunately, reports that Castle actually shot an alternative ending to the film proved to be apocryphal. Despite its gimmicky nature, I think the Punishment Poll fits into the plot of the movie surprisingly well - the villain is convincingly sympathetic throughout most of the movie.
Despite its huge budget, expansive CGI, and some unexpected bright spots - Kate Beckinsale does a surprisingly good Eastern European accent - Van Helsing isn't such a great movie. Mr. Sardonicus, on the other hand, is above all else really fun - and has one of the most shocking movie moments of all time. Watch it today!
A few days ago we watched Mr. Sardonicus, a William Castle movie from 1961. The plot: A famous doctor, Sir Robert Cargrave of London, recently knighted for his achievements in the field of curing paralysis, receives a missive from his former fiancee, now married to the mysterious Baron Sardonicus. She beseeches Sir Robert to come for a visit, and when he arrives amidst a flurry of disturbing events, he's eventually pressed into service to protect the innocent, and maybe help the not-so-innocent. While Sir Robert is a bit too unflappable and self-confident to be the best "audience surrogate" for a horror movie, that's the only thing I can really fault about the movie, which is really fun, unexpectedly disturbing, and pretty original despite its tight plotting.
I particularly enjoyed the movie for its enthusiastic participation in the "Eastern Europe as locus of the frightening and uncivilized" motif, a trope I encountered frequently when I majored in Slavic Languages and Literatures. However, Mr. Sardonicus is notable for its commitment to an authentic setting - it's nominally set in the fictional Central/Eastern European republic of "Gorslava" but all the visible writing, like in the train station and cemetery, is real Czech, and the village scenes are pretty good too.
It was also interesting to contrast the film with Van Helsing, which we watched today: Both films are set in the abstract Mitteleuropa of . . . well, horror films, but despite coming out forty years earlier, Mr. Sardonicus actually gives a much more nuanced depiction of the region. Van Helsing claims at once to be set "in Transylvania," "on the far side of Romania," and, most bizarrely, in Budapest. Both films also draw a sharp juxtaposition between a "civilized" Western city and a heavily fictionalized, indiscriminately Eastern or Balkan rural area: London and "Gorislava," Rome and "Transylvania." Both films also depict the contrast between a large castle or estate - removed from the village milieu and owned by the aristocracy - and the surrounding rural region. In Van Helsing, the heroine Anna and her brother Velkan are the last of the Valerious family, whose huge castle stands adjacent to the "Budapest" village area. From their names, we can assume that their ancestors were not autochthonous to the region. In Mr. Sardonicus, Baron Sardonicus is originally a local, but after buying his expensive estate, he furnishes and staffs it so that it is indistinguishable from any Western counterpart. Both the Valerious and Sardonicus estates become the loci for horrible deeds and disturbing events, as if the uncanny nature of the Eastern setting must always triumph over the trappings of civilization.
The immersive location isn't the only unique quality of Mr. Sardonicus. The plot, which I don't want to reveal too much about, is a great mash-up of multiple influences: Dracula, of course, but also maybe "The Monkey's Paw." More than anything, the flashback that's the film's centerpiece reminded me of an Eastern European folk tale. The film's most unique feature, and probably its most famous, is the "Punishment Poll" that appears before the film's conclusion. The original theater audiences were given a glow-in-the-dark card with a "Thumbs Up" sign that could be turned over for the "thumbs down." William Castle comes on-screen and asks the audience to vote with the thumb, Roman Colosseum-style, on whether the villain has received enough punishment or if he deserves some more. Unfortunately, reports that Castle actually shot an alternative ending to the film proved to be apocryphal. Despite its gimmicky nature, I think the Punishment Poll fits into the plot of the movie surprisingly well - the villain is convincingly sympathetic throughout most of the movie.
Despite its huge budget, expansive CGI, and some unexpected bright spots - Kate Beckinsale does a surprisingly good Eastern European accent - Van Helsing isn't such a great movie. Mr. Sardonicus, on the other hand, is above all else really fun - and has one of the most shocking movie moments of all time. Watch it today!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Night of Terror #15: 'Homicidal"
Let's get one thing straight about William Castle: He weren't no artist. He didn't think of himself as one, anyway. And when you watch his movies, it's clear to see he didn't have that cinematic verve that, say, Hitchcock has. Same with the performances - they're mostly flat (unless Vincent Price was involved), and delivering the kind of ridiculous expository dialog that seems fundamentally disconnected from real life. And yet there is a kind of artistry to William Castle's movies. If Hitch is The Beatles, William Castle would have to be, I dunno, The Stooges or something. Maybe they didn't know how to play their instruments, but holy shit, they could play anyway.
That's actually a horrible analogy because Castle's movies aren't particularly exciting in the conventional sense, but there's something so thrilling about them anyway. Which finally brings us to Homicidal, a blatant Psycho knock-off from 1961. It's got Psycho's stark black-and-white cinematography, a violent plot about a serial killer, a couple stabbings/dismemberments, shots of driving in the rain, and a twist ending.
It also has something Psycho does not: A "Fright Break," in which a clock appears on the screen and faint-hearted members of the audience are invited to leave before things get too intense. Gimmicks like this are a huge part of the Castle oeuvre, and they give his movies a kind of Pop Art weirdness that I really love.
It occurred to me about halfway through this that my aim of keeping the blog free of heavy spoilers means I won't be able to talk about by far the most interesting aspect of the movie, which is the big "twist" and its ramifications. Oh well. Instead I'll point out that the character of Helga seems to be at least one inspiration for the wheelchair-bound and mute Hector Salamanca on Breaking Bad. Only instead of a bell, she has some kind of gavel thing. I wonder if Vince Gilligan ever saw this movie?
That's actually a horrible analogy because Castle's movies aren't particularly exciting in the conventional sense, but there's something so thrilling about them anyway. Which finally brings us to Homicidal, a blatant Psycho knock-off from 1961. It's got Psycho's stark black-and-white cinematography, a violent plot about a serial killer, a couple stabbings/dismemberments, shots of driving in the rain, and a twist ending.
It also has something Psycho does not: A "Fright Break," in which a clock appears on the screen and faint-hearted members of the audience are invited to leave before things get too intense. Gimmicks like this are a huge part of the Castle oeuvre, and they give his movies a kind of Pop Art weirdness that I really love.
It occurred to me about halfway through this that my aim of keeping the blog free of heavy spoilers means I won't be able to talk about by far the most interesting aspect of the movie, which is the big "twist" and its ramifications. Oh well. Instead I'll point out that the character of Helga seems to be at least one inspiration for the wheelchair-bound and mute Hector Salamanca on Breaking Bad. Only instead of a bell, she has some kind of gavel thing. I wonder if Vince Gilligan ever saw this movie?
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