Through the transformation of the glorious WTF-Films into the even more
glorious Exploder
Button and the ensuing server changes, some of my old columns for
the site have gone the way of all things internet. I’m going to repost them here
in irregular intervals in addition to my usual ramblings.
Please keep in mind these are the old posts without any re-writes or
improvements. Furthermore, many of these pieces were written years ago, so if
you feel offended or need to violently disagree with me in the comments, you can
be pretty sure I won’t know why I wrote what I wrote anymore anyhow.
Rufus, the patriarch of the Sinclair family, is laid to rest in the family
mausoleum. Nobody seems all that shaken by the old man's death, in fact, it
would be difficult not to diagnose the bereaved with a certain amount of
happiness. If we can believe their tales, Rufus must have been something of a
sadist and a madman, making the life of his wife Abigail (Helen Warren) and that
of their children a living hell. Which is not something I'd recommend to people
like Rufus who have an uncommon physical illness that makes them prone to seem
quite dead when they are still most definitely not, awaking fears of being
buried alive. He might have set down certain security measures against it in his
will, but no one is actually willing to take them. As you might have guessed,
the Sinclair family is about as pleasant as Rufus himself was, with the
exception of cousin Robert (Dino Narizzano), the boyfriend of Benson's daughter
Deborah (Carnival of Souls' Candace Hilligoss in her completely
forgettable other role). He's the young, bland guy the gothic trappings require
to survive everything on account of the power of pure, concentrated
boringness.
The opening of the will by family lawyer Benson (Hugh Franklin) doesn't go
well, anyway, because the will also keeps the money out of the family's hands
for a whole year, to make sure Rufus is truly dead. Oh, and by the way, dear
children, if you are not doing what I told you, I'll come back from the dead and
kill you all after a fashion based on your worst fears.
Obviously, it comes like it has to come - the old man's coffin is soon empty
and a disguised figure is slaughtering the charming family one by one. The
family calls the local chapter of the keystone cops, but those aren't of much
help to anyone, so it's either up to alcoholic son Philip (a young Roy Scheider)
or the bland one to step up to the occasion.
And lo! It happened that AIP made a shedload of money with Roger Corman's Poe
adaptations and the early Gothics of Mario Bava. And Del Tenney said "I want
some of that money too!", and decided to make his own little Gothic picture on
the grounds of his father-in-law's highly photogenic property. But something
strange and terrifying happened to Tenney. We are not sure if it was a sudden
bout of artistic ambition or just a knock on the head with the rubber suit out
of his The Horror of Party Beach, but in any case, Tenney suddenly
developed the idea of making a cheap knock-off that was also trying to emulate
the visual flair of the films (in a sense cheap knock-offs themselves) it stole
its ideas from.
So the courageous viewer of Curse of the Living Corpse is confronted
with things he won't usually connect with Tenney's handful of films - carefully
constructed shots, rather thoughtful framing and effectively moody outside
locations. It is really impressive to look at, and even though the sets used for
inside shots are a little drab and perfunctory, Tenney (or is director of
photography Richard Hilliard to praise?) for once films in a way developed to
cover up these limitations.
Alas, while Tenney the director is showing actual artistic development from
his earlier films, Tenney the scriptwriter isn't able to rise to the occasion.
The script's weakest point is the terrible dialogue, obviously based on the way
people in Corman's Poe adaptations speak, but Tenney is neither Charles Beaumont
nor Richard Matheson and decides to turn the dialogue up to a crescendo of
unbelievable stiffness that is at times difficult to stomach. It is the way
stupid people think cultured people of the 1890s used to sound, I suppose.
The dialogue's weakness is quite a shame, too, because the basic character
concepts that are lost among all the monologizing aren't bad at all. As a matter
of fact, they remind me of the giallo principle of packing your cast full of the
most unpleasant people you could imagine (and aren't all rich people unpleasant
and of dubious morals, young grasshopper?), giving them more psycho-sexual
hang-ups than necessary or in good taste and then killing them off in even more
unpleasant ways. The slightly cruel streak as well as the violent-for-its-time
murder scenes also give up a whiff of American proto-giallo (more than of
proto-slasher), just less class-conscious and less willing to really go
to the unpleasant places.
Pacing is of course also a problem. The film is money-savingly talky,
something I am willing to tolerate, but also cursed with a bad sense of timing
that usually puts the most annoying comic relief imaginable right after a scene
that is atmospheric and immersive, as if something in Tenney just couldn't abide
the thought of his audience actually being interested in his film, or even
thrilled by it.
Acting wise, Curse of the Living Corpse is better than one would
expect of a film that affords its - obviously not costly - cast to speak
dialogue this stiff with fake English accents. Sure, the accents are sometimes
off, but very tolerable, and most everyone does her or his role with solidity.
Scheider and his film wife (and Tenney's real life wife) Margot Hartman are even
rather good, obviously having fun with being less than pleasant human
beings.
The three (oh yes, the humour is so painful it had to be divided between
three people, or someone would have died from it) comic relief actors are of
quite a different calibre, of course, even making me think wistfully of people
like Johnny Walker (at least not, fortunately, of Jagdeep), but when has the
odious comic relief ever been well acted, not to speak of funny?
All of this might make the film sound a lot worse than the experience
watching it was for me, but I am a fan of Gothic and mock-Gothic horror and
therefore easy to please in this regard. Your personal mileage will certainly
depend on your love for Gothic tropes.
Friday, February 5, 2016
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