MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #13 Before I Hang (1940) / The Man They Could Not Hang (1939)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

BEFORE I HANG 1940

This medical science gone wrong horror thriller directed by Nick Grinde stars the incomparable Boris Karloff, who plays the kindly and sympathetic character of Dr. John Garth, a physician seeking a serum that will fend off the aging process. Garth is placed on death row for conducting a mercy killing but is permitted to pursue his experiments with his serum on the other inmates’ blood while secretly testing it on himself. His colleague, Dr. Ralph Howard (Edward Van Sloan), helps with his research. Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy, Dracula’s Daughter 1936). They inject Garth with the experimental serum taken from one of the executed murderers, a man who was criminally insane. Though Garth murders his colleague and a prison trustee, he manages to fool them into giving him a pardon for his work as a humanitarian. Dr. Garth emerges as a Jekyll and Hyde personality, becoming a homicidal killer. One of the best early chillers utilizing the very morbid yet enthralling idea that blood has its own consciousness. This concept will be used in films later on down the road, acting on the same premise that the human body, blood tissue, and bone retain the memory of the criminal whose body they belonged to—pulsing with a life force unique to that singular identity.

B-movie queen Evelyn Keyes plays Garth’s daughter Martha. Don Beddoe is Capt. McGraw and Bruce Bennett (Mildred Pierce 1945 Dark Passage 1947) plays Dr. Paul Ames.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG 1939

Boris Karloff is Dr. Henryk Savaard, a scientist working in the field of medicine who is searching for a means to prolong life. His experiments employ a mechanical heart to revive his subjects after they’ve been pronounced technically dead. Medical student Bob Roberts (Stanley Brown) volunteers to be the first subject of Dr. Savaard’s experiment. Savaard’s nurse, Betty Crawford (Ann Doran) Penny Serenade 1941, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers 1946), is frantic about her boyfriend Bob submitting to this and calls the police. They arrest Dr. Savaard for killing his assistant, and he goes to trial.

Dr. Savaard tries desperately to explain his altruistic intentions to the jury, but he is found guilty and sentenced to hang. Savaard has instructed his assistant Lang (Byron Foulger) to bring him back from the dead using his methods with the mechanical heart. Soon after, mysteriously, six members of the jury who have convicted Dr. Savaard wind up committing suicide by hanging themselves. The other six jurors, the judge, prosecutor, police inspector, and nurse Crawford are invited to Savaard’s house so that he can exact his revenge!

Lorna Gray plays Savaard’s daughter, Janet; Charles Trowbridge plays Judge Bowman; and Don Beddoe plays Police Lt. Shane—one of Karloff’s great sympathetic scientist thrillers with wonderful atmospherics in this other Nick Grinde B-movie classic.

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MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #12 Bedlam (1946) & The Body Snatcher (1945)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

BEDLAM (1946)

A Symphony of Dark Patches- The Val Lewton Legacy 1943

bedlam

Bedlam 1946 is Val Lewton’s visually haunting condemnation of mental asylums. Mark Robson directs Boris Karloff in perhaps one of his most vicious roles as the sadistic Master George Sims. Challenged by Mistress Bowen (Anna Lee) for his cruelty and inhumane treatment of the inmates, Sims orchestrates her confinement to Bedlam as she tries to reform the horrible conditions of the place. Stunning and brutal, Bedlam is the most savage story in the Lewton canon. It is a wonderful appearance by character actor Ian Wolfe, who always brings a bit of perspicacity to any film.

Boris Karloff’s performance in Bedlam (1946) is a masterclass in chilling restraint and psychological menace. In my opinion, it is perhaps among his finest and most complex screen creations. As Master George Sims, Karloff trades the Gothic excesses of his more famous monsters for a quiet, brooding authority, a malevolent figure who rules the asylum with wit as sharp as his cruelty, a presence simultaneously polite and terrifying. This is highlighted in the infamous “gilded boy” dinner party, as he expresses glee and a vicious delight, striking not simply for its horror but for the way Karloff infuses Sims with chilling plausibility and hints of perverse enjoyment.

What’s mesmerizing is how Boris Karloff channels both icy calculation and flashes of wry, almost courtly charm, rendering Sims a portrait of domesticated evil by candlelight, an administrator whose sinister schemes and subtle tyranny keep the film taut with dread. Even in the climactic reversal, when the inmates turn on their tormentor, there’s an uneasy pathos to Karloff’s final moments: his gaze flickers between defiance and abject horror as retribution literally walls him in. Karloff’s turn in Bedlam is truly villainous, rather than merely misunderstood, where he transcends archetype to deliver a performance that feels eerily real, haunted, human, and disturbingly close to home. His performance feels uncomfortably familiar or relevant, resonating on a personal or societal level rather than as a distant, purely fictional level of horror. It’s not theatrics but the haunted precision of his gestures and long, deliberate silences that define the role, and elevate Bedlam itself above mere historical horror into something genuinely unsettling.

Bedlam (1946), as one of Val Lewton’s extraordinary visually poetic psychological horror films in his collection for RKO Pictures, is perhaps one of his darkest poems. Val Lewton, known for his stylish horror B-films, co-wrote the screenplay under the pseudonym Carlos Keith, maintaining his approach to horror with a focus on psychological tension and suggestive shadows rather than overt supernatural elements.

The film, which would be the last collaboration with Boris Karloff and his final film for RKO, with the great actor commanding the screen with a deranged subtlety as Master George Sims, the cruel apothecary general of St. Mary’s of Bethlehem Asylum, and Anna Lee as Nell Bowen, a spirited reformer who seeks to improve the conditions for the asylum’s inmates, and the mistreatment of mental health patients in the 18th century.

Set in 1761 London, the film was inspired by William Hogarth’s painting series “A Rake’s Progress,” with Hogarth receiving a writing credit. The story follows Nell Bowen’s efforts to reform the notorious asylum, leading to her own commitment by the sadistic Sims.

Bedlam features several dramatic scenes that highlight the cruelty of the asylum and the tension between Nell Bowen and Master Sims. One of the most shocking scenes involves the “gilded boy,” where a young inmate painted in toxic gold performs for Lord Mortimer’s (Billy House) party, only to collapse and die from the poisonous paint while the callous partygoers and wealthy patrons revel in the spectacle of the poor boy’s suffering. This scene vividly illustrates the callousness of Sims and wealthy patrons toward the inmates’ dire struggles.

The cinematography by Nicholas Musuraca contributes significantly to the film’s atmospheric quality, employing chiaroscuro lighting techniques typical of Lewton productions. The set design, utilizing the church set from The Bells of St. Mary’s (1945), adds to the film’s gothic ambiance.

THE BODY SNATCHER 1945

The Body Snatcher (1945) is a chilling horror film directed by Robert Wise and produced by Val Lewton, set in 1831 Edinburgh. Karloff gives a tour de force, nuanced performance as John Gray, a sinister cabman who moonlights as a grave robber and murderer.

The film also features the sophisticated Henry Daniell with his concrete, chiseled, austere face as Dr. MacFarlane, a physician tormented by his past and Gray’s machinations to make money any way he can. Beloved Bela Lugosi appears in the film as Joseph, a blackmailing servant, and has a notably small role, marking the last on-screen collaboration between the two horror legends.

The story, based on Robert Louis Stevenson’s work, follows Gray’s increasingly disturbing methods of procuring cadavers for Dr. MacFarlane’s medical school, leading to a psychological battle between the two men that culminates in a haunting climax.

Boris Karloff’s performance as John Gray in The Body Snatcher (1945) is a haunting embodiment of malevolent cunning and psychological depth. Karloff crafts Gray not as a mere villain but as a complex figure: a grave robber and occasional murderer who carries himself with a sinister charm that both fascinates and unsettles us to the core. His portrayal balances menace with a sly, almost sardonic humor, making Karloff’s Gray a character whose presence dominates every scene he inhabits without ever falling into caricature.

Karloff masterfully reveals the creeping rot of guilt and amorality beneath Gray’s calculated exterior. His physicality, the gaunt makeup paired with his piercing, icy stare, heightens the sense of impending doom that accompanies his every stalking move. Much like Bedlam, it’s a blend of cruelty and charisma, underscored by sudden bursts of violence that shock precisely because they feel disturbingly real and not exaggerated.

The performance benefits from Karloff’s ability to convey layered motivations; Gray oscillates between ruthless pragmatism and an eerie, almost perverse delight in his grim trade. Karloff’s Gray is not just a dark presence but a pivotal force that personifies the film’s exploration of moral decay and desperation amid the grim conditions of early 19th-century Edinburgh.

Ultimately, it’s not hard to see that Karloff’s Gray is a magnificent study in villainy, one that is chilling because it feels organic, something that Boris Karloff is a master at cultivating, crafted with a precision that transforms a simple tale of grave robbing into a psychological thriller with a lingering emotional punch. It’s a performance that showcases Karloff’s range beyond his iconic monsters, marking The Body Snatcher as one of the dark gems in his storied career.

Some key scenes include the murder of the young street singer, which highlights Gray’s ruthlessness. Gray’s tormenting of Dr. MacFarlane in the pub, revealing their complex history, and the chilling carriage ride finale, where MacFarlane hallucinates Gray’s corpse coming to life. Robert Wise’s direction and Lewton’s emphasis on the pyshcological terror rather than explicit horror fix this in his legacy as a stunning masterpiece, a film that explores the ethical dilemma faced by medical schools in the 1830s when legal cadavers were scarce. This shortage led to a grim trade in illegally obtained bodies by graverobbing, blurring the lines between scientific progress and criminal activity. The story draws inspiration from the real-life Burke and Hare murders of 1828, which also adds a layer of authenticity to the narrative.

#12 down, only 138 to go! Your EverLovin’ Joey, formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl!

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror! #11 La Belle et la Bête ‘Beauty and the Beast’ (1946)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

La Belle et la Bête ‘Beauty and the Beast’ (1946)

Writer/Director Jean Cocteau’s magnificent & visually surreal odyssey, thanks in part to the stunning cinematography by Henri Alekan.

It stars Jean Marais as the enigmatic Beast who falls in love with the beautiful Belle (Josette Day), who has come to his hidden castle in order to take her father’s place as his prisoner. The Beast is enraptured by Belle and wishes to marry her. At first, horrified by the presence of this mysterious creature, she grows to care deeply for him. This film presents some of the most intoxicating imagery you’ll ever see. And like Belle… I found the Beast far more attractive than the Prince (also portrayed by Marais!)

Jean Cocteau’s La Belle et la Bête: Beauty and the Beast (1946) is renowned for its stunning design elements, which blend surrealism, gothic romance, and poetic imagery to create a magical, dreamlike landscape. The film’s visual style is a testament to Cocteau’s artistic sensibilities and his collaboration with key talents like cinematographer Henri Alekan and set designer Christian Bérard.

Henri Alekan’s black-and-white cinematography transforms everyday objects into elements of fantasy. Smoke, fog, and shimmering light create an ethereal quality that blurs the line between reality and imagination, and Cocteau’s use of mirrors as portals to other worlds reflects his fascination with transformation and duality, a recurring theme in his work.

The Beast’s castle is a hauntingly beautiful space inspired by Gustave Doré’s engravings. It features long shadowy hallways, billowing white curtains, and disembodied arms holding candelabras—an iconic touch that evokes both wonder and unease.

Belle’s family home contrasts sharply with the castle, drawing inspiration from Jan Vermeer’s paintings. The farmhouse scenes are grounded in realism, emphasizing Belle’s humble life before entering the fantastical world of the Beast.

The elaborate costumes by Christian Bérard and Marcel Escoffier enhance the fairytale aesthetic. Belle’s flowing gowns contrast with the Beast’s intricate lion-like makeup, which took hours to apply.

René Clément worked as a technical advisor, and Hagop Arakelian was responsible for designing the regal Beast make-up. The Beast’s design is both majestic and, while presented as a visage that is supposed to be grotesque, embodying his internal struggle between humanity and monstrosity. I find him most regal and beautiful in his sympathetic vulnerability. As a cat worshipper, I could never find a feline visage grotesque, even when they throw up in my shoes!

La Belle et la Bête incorporates symbolic objects like the rose, mirror, key, horse, and glove, each tied to the narrative’s themes of love, transformation, and power. The Gothic elements of the castle—such as living statues with moving eyes—heighten the sense of enchantment while maintaining a gorgeous yet eerie undertone.

The film masterfully juxtaposes Belle’s mundane world with the Gothic opulence of the Beast’s realm, emphasizing duality, metamorphosis, and redemption. This symmetry reflects Belle’s journey from innocence to self-awareness as she navigates between two contrasting worlds. Cocteau’s film is more than a fairy tale; it is visual poetry brought to life and, well… a thing of beauty!

11 down, only 139 to go!-Your EverLovin’ Joey formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl

MonsterGirl's 150 Days of Classic Horror! #10 Baby Yaga (1973) / Necromancy (1972)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

Baba Yaga, Devil Witch (1973)

TAM LIN 1970 & BABA YAGA 1973 – Ava Gardner & Carroll Baker: THE FAERIE QUEEN"¦ & VALENTINA'S DREAM: Two Hollywood icons in search of mythology. Part 2

The sensual Carroll Baker (Baby Doll 1956, Something Wild 1961) who later became one of the queens of the Euro-Exploitation realm (The Sweet Body of Deborah 1968, Paranoia 1969, So Sweet… So Perverse 1969, A Quiet Place to Kill 1970, The Devil Has Seven Faces 1971) inhabits the role of Baba Yaga.

Based on Guido Grepax’s ‘Valentina,’ a pornographic comic, the film is less about the trope of good vs evil and suggests more the exploration of the heroine’s ‘body’ and the consumption of pleasure and pain. Isabelle De Funés is Valentina, a photographer who falls under the spell of a bewitched camera, and the sapphic enchantress Baba Yaga who desires to possess her. The film is filled with surreal imagery, erotic reveries, and sadomasochistic fetishism. Ely Galeani (A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin 1971) plays the living doll.

Necromancy, aka The Witching (1972)

Necromancy with Orson Welles

A little overview of Pamela Franklin’s career is below:

BRIDES OF HORROR – Scream Queens of the 1960s! Part 1

SPOILER ALERT!

Directed by Bert I Gordon, leaves behind gigantism for a moment to delve into satanism. Orson Welles is Mr. Cato, a practitioner of the dark arts and leader of a coven in the small town of Lilith, who desperately wants to bring his dead son back to life. He seeks out Pamela Franklin, who plays Lori Brandon, a girl who has the power to help him raise the dead. When she and her husband, Frank (Michael Ontkean), move to Lilith, guided by the lure of a new career, Lori finds out, much to her horror, the true reason behind Cato’s motives. There are some very atmospheric moments, with the ghost of a little boy that taunts Franklin and some eerie exterior camera work by Winton C. Hoch (The Quiet Man 1952, The Searchers 1956, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea 1961, Robinson Crusoe on Mars 1964, and including the 1966 TV series Lost In Space). It also stars Lee Purcell as Priscilla.

The chilling conclusion of Necromancy (1972) involves Lori being buried alive during a necromancy ceremony to resurrect Mr. Cato’s dead son. However, this disturbing ending is revealed to be a nightmare, only for Lori to awaken and realize she’s experiencing déjà vu, suggesting that her dream was actually a premonition of events yet to unfold.

The Fantastically Huge World of Mr. B.I.G: Bert I. Gordon – An Intermission with special guest blogger GoreGirl!

A deeper dive…Necromancy Unearthed: Journey Through Lilith’s Dark Heart:

Necromancy (1972), sometimes subtitled A Life for a Life or later re-released as The Witching, is a moody, obscure relic of 1970s supernatural horror cinema, starring Orson Welles and Pamela Franklin amidst a surreal, cult-haunted landscape. Directed by Bert I. Gordon—best known for larger-than-life, effects-driven B-movies such as The Amazing Colossal ManNecromancy marked a shift for the director, moving from atomic creatures to the eerier, more psychological territory of occult and witchcraft, utilizing slow-burn suspense and surreal visuals courtesy of cinematographer Winton C. Hoch. Hoch, whose previous credits included vivid Technicolor spectacles, here turned his camera toward overcast, shadowy compositions that steep the film in a disquieting pallor, fitting for a story in which nothing is quite what it seems.

The film opens with a tragic jolt: Los Angeles housewife Lori Brandon (Pamela Franklin) wakes in a hospital beset by grief, having just lost her child in a stillbirth. Her husband Frank (Michael Ontkean), seeking a fresh start, accepts a mysterious job in the northern California town of Lilith, yes, that Lilith often associated with witchcraft. It should have been a clue- Lilith’s legend is a fascinating blend of ancient mythology and later folklore, she’s often described as Adam’s first wife who refused to be subservient, leaving Eden to become a figure of defiance and independence. Her story weaves together themes of rebellion, autonomy, and the supernatural, making her both a symbol of female empowerment and a mysterious spirit shrouded in ancient, shadowy myth.

Frank takes the job working for a reclusive and eccentric figure named Mr. Cato (Orson Welles). As the couple makes their way into Lilith, they witness a terrible accident, setting the tone of unease. Stranded, Lori wanders into a foggy field and discovers a gravestone beneath an old tree, triggering a surreal vision of a child’s funeral, a vision that will encircle much of the film’s narrative like a shroud.

Arriving in Lilith, Lori and Frank quickly sense the oddness of the town, which Mr. Cato rules with absolute authority. Upon settling in, Lori and Frank are hosted at a dinner by their odd, imperious new boss Cato, who hints at the supernatural undertones of Frank’s new assignment and gifts Lori a grimoire. The town, Lillth, is ringed by youthful, attractive inhabitants, all seemingly in thrall to Cato, and all apparently bound together by an occult legacy.

Priscilla (Lee Purcell), one of Cato’s alluring followers, alludes to Cato’s lost son, Timothy, and Cato soon reveals his desire to conquer death itself, through necromancy, the forbidden art of raising the dead. He believes Lori holds the key to this ancient power. Lori, born with a caul (en caul), has psychic gifts suited for the task of bringing Timothy back to life, a point emphasized in a flashback showing Lori reviving a drowned girl by will alone.

The house Lori and Frank moved into formerly belonged to Jennie (Barbara Peckinpaugh), whom they saw die in the car accident, further deepening the mystery and menace.

Lori grows increasingly agitated by visions, whispered secrets, and Cato’s omnipresent influence. Frank drifts away, both emotionally and physically, as Lori is drawn into the coven’s grasp. She resists an “initiation” ritual held at a party that morphs into a ceremonial ordeal, amplifying the film’s dreamlike, quasi-psychedelic tone. After sighting the ghostly Timothy, Lori is lured into her basement, where she is attacked by rats—one of several harrowing, hallucinatory sequences.

The plot tightens as town conspirators Dr. Jay (Harvey Jason) and Priscilla reveal Lori’s role as a sacrificial substitute for Timothy. A frantic succession of events follows: Lori seeks out her husband, only to learn from the treacherous Nancy (Sue Bernard) that Frank has left her, when in fact he is entangled with Nancy herself. Priscilla, expressing regret, promises Lori an escape, but is found drowned before she can act. The narrative twists further as Lori is subjected to more and more frightening visions. Lori is then confronted with the truth: the cult plans a necromancy ritual, using her as a “life for a life” to bring back Timothy. In the film’s climax, Lori stumbles into a midnight necromantic ritual at Timothy’s grave, where the cult prepares to bury her alive to resurrect the boy.

In a nightmarish sequence, she is buried alive in claustrophobic intensity, only to suddenly awaken, as if from a dream, in her car. Frank reassures her, but she is seized by a haunting sense of déjà vu; the film closes on the suggestion that her “nightmare” is either a premonition or an endless cycle of fate. Gordon’s cyclical, reality-blurring twist is the film’s closing note, of trauma never quite resolved.

Orson Welles’s performance is simultaneously grandiose—of course, what you would expect from the actor—and deeply weary, at times mumbling incantations. Reviews often note his interpretation of the role as both compelling and somewhat disengaged. Still, the character might have devolved into cartoonish excess in other hands.

Pamela Franklin, familiar to genre fans for The Legend of Hell House, And Soon the Darkness, and Satan’s School for Girls, brings Lori with a haunting vulnerability that lends the picture emotional weight and cohesion during the wilder moments.

Franklin centers the film with a sense of psychological fragility and intensity, a trademark she mastered with delicacy yet with a powerful presence. Pamela Franklin always radiates an exquisite tension between tender fragility and burning intensity—her performances feel simultaneously nuanced and unyielding, always captivating with hauntingly poetic balance.

Michael Ontkean, known for his role in the 1970s cop show The Rookies, is effective enough as Frank, though his character is more functional than memorable.

At the time of its release, Necromancy received predominantly poor reviews, cited for its confusing plot, lack of tension, and what some critics saw as unfocused direction and performances. Some, like myself, appreciate its atmospheric production design. Perhaps it carries that unmistakable 1970s made-for-TV movie vibe popular at the time with its low-key, a touch quirky, and charmingly creepy, despite its budgetary restraints, not to mention the enigmatic presence of Welles and the mesmerizing lure of Franklin. Later re-releases and cult viewings brought renewed interest, especially for the film’s moody, uncanny aesthetic and its portrait of occult paranoia. Critical reception at the time noted the film’s plot holes and sense of narrative drift, but some of us appreciate its technical polish and solid production values given its low budget.

Later, Necromancy achieved a degree of cult admiration for its oddness, brooding atmosphere, and the sheer curiosity of seeing Welles and Franklin together in the fog-bound, ritual-haunted town of Lilith. In one significant reissue, Necromancy was retitled The Witching and expanded to include extra nudity and rituals, a sign of both exploitation film marketing and changing tastes in 1980s horror. In more recent decades, its psychedelic strangeness and uncanny mood have led to reconsideration within lists of top occult horror films.

Ultimately, Necromancy remains a minor artifact of ‘70s horror, a phantasmagoric, deeply flawed, yet visually memorable tale of loss, occult obsession, and the inescapable pull of the past, haunted by the lingering presence of its stars and the ghost of horror cinema’s own changing ambitions that the 1970s ushered in.

#10 Down, just 140 to go!-Your EverLovin’ Joey formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #9 The Awful Dr. Orloff 1962 & The Horrible Dr. Hichcock 1962

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

THE AWFUL DR. ORLOFF 1962

The Awful Dr. Orloff (1962), directed by the often-labeled king of Eurosleaze, Jesús Franco, is a landmark film in European horror cinema. Franco has made over 150 movies; however, due to the various re-titling, re-edits, and the insertion of hard-core scenes for ‘specialty’ markets, a definite total is hard to say. This Spanish-French co-production stars Howard Vernon as the titular Dr. Orloff, a deranged scientist attempting to restore his daughter’s disfigured face using skin grafts from kidnapped women. The film is probably the earliest spin-off of Georges Franju’s medical horror. – Eyes Without a Face in 1962, in which the mad doctor grafts women’s faces onto his disfigured daughter.

The film follows Dr. Orloff and his blind, deranged, and deformed assistant Morpho (Ricardo Valle) as they abduct beautiful women from Parisian nightclubs. Morpho has a nasty proclivity to bite his female victims to death! Meanwhile, Inspector Tanner investigates the disappearances, aided by his fiancée Wanda Bronsky, who bears a striking resemblance to Orloff’s daughter.

Franco’s direction emphasizes atmospheric Gothic horror, featuring Chiaroscuro lighting in the castle and night exterior scenes, creating a haunting ambiance, and the use of evocative photography, such as the silhouetted shots of the two villains carrying a coffin towards the forbidding castle and a murder which occurs in front of an upstairs window, viewed only by the street below. One of his driving motivations is to make the viewer as uncomfortable as he possibly can.

There are unsettling close-ups of Vernon’s piercing gaze, described as reaching “deep into your soul.” The film is pretty graphic (for its time) with its depictions of surgery and violence, including a scene of Orloff making a gory scalpel incision on a topless woman and the grotesque appearance of Morpho, with his bulging eyes and lecherous behavior.

The Awful Dr. Orloff is considered a pivotal work in the evolution as the first internationally successful European / Spanish horror film. It helped launch the career of Jesús Franco and established several Gothic narrative tropes that would recur in European horror. The Mad Scientist narratives blend horror and medical science fiction. As one of the trademarks of the director, he loves to use increased focus on graphic violence and eroticism with the use of atmospheric locations and Gothic imagery and the more explicit, boundary-pushing films that would follow in the 1960s and 1970s. The European version reveals more gruesome surgical shots and hints at necrophilia, which were removed from the American prints. The subdued American version was a double bill with The Horrible Dr. Hichcock 1962.

Initially met with negative reviews, the film has since gained cult status. It’s praised for its atmospheric cinematography. by G. Pacheco, evocative score, and willingness to push genre boundaries. The character of Dr. Orloff became a recurring figure in Franco’s filmography, appearing in various forms in later works. Franco revisited the character in various forms throughout his career, with The Sinister Eyes of Dr. Orloff being one of the later iterations.

THE HORRIBLE DR. HICHCOCK 1962

The Horrible Dr. Hichcock (1962) is a landmark Italian Gothic horror film directed by Riccardo Freda and written by Ernesto Gastaldi. Starring Robert Flemyng as Dr. Bernard Hichcock and Barbara Steele as his new wife, Cynthia, this often disturbing film explores themes of necrophilia, guilt, and the consequences of dark desires.

Set in 1885 London, the story follows Dr. Hichcock, a brilliant surgeon with a disturbing secret: he drugs his wife Margaretha to indulge in necrophilic desires. When an accidental overdose seemingly kills her, Hichcock flees England. Returning 12 years later with his new wife, Cynthia, he finds himself haunted by his past and struggling to resist his perverse urges.

The film delves into taboo subjects, blending elements of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart” with themes of guilt, obsession, and the battle between scientific progress and dark human impulses.

Freda’s direction emphasizes the colorful Gothic atmosphere through interior Chiaroscuro lighting. Unsettling close-ups of Flemyng’s piercing gaze and the expressionistic use of color, particularly vivid reds, symbolize lust. Once again, the film focuses on Mad scientist narratives blending horror and medical science fiction, and, much like Dr Orloff, its focus is increased on the graphic confluence of violence and eroticism.

The film has gained cult status and is praised for its atmospheric cinematography by Raffaele Masciocchi and evocative score by Roman Vlad. The Horrible Dr. Hitchcock draws inspiration from and pays homage to several classic thrillers and horror pictures, including Alfred Hitchcock’s works, particularly Rebecca, Vertigo, and Jane Eyre.

#9 Down 141 to go! Your EverLovin’ Joey, formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl!

Monstergirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror – #7 The Abominable Dr. Phibes 1971 & Theater of Blood

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES 1971

The Abominable Dr. Phibes is a deliciously macabre 1971 British dark comedy horror film directed by Robert Fuest, who also directed the taut psycho-sexual And Soon the Darkness 1970 and offered up a torrential storm of horror camp and kitsch in 1975 with The Devil’s Rain.

Dr. Phibes, set in 1920s London, follows the vengeful quest of Dr. Anton Phibes, played with mesmerizing intensity by the incomparable Vincent Price at his flamboyant best.

Believed dead in a car crash, Dr. Phibes resurfaces in 1925, hideously disfigured and unable to speak. Convinced that a team of doctors is responsible for his beloved wife Victoria’s death during surgery, Phibes embarks on a grotesquely inventive killing spree inspired by the biblical Ten Plagues of Egypt, with the help of his otherworldly and elegantly enchanting Vulvavia, played by Virginia North.

Price’s performance as Phibes is a tour de force of silent acting. Stripped of his iconic voice for most of the film, Price crafts a character of chilling determination through his expressive eyes, subtle gestures, and macabre pantomime. His towering presence and ghoulish makeup create an aura of ominous power, while his post-dubbed dialogue, delivered through a phonograph, adds an eerie quality to his character.

As Phibes dispatches his victims with increasingly elaborate and darkly humorous methods – from a room full of hungry bats to a mechanical frog mask that strangles its wearer – Inspector Trout (Peter Jeffrey) of Scotland Yard races to unravel the connection between the murders. The film builds to a nail-biting climax as Phibes kidnaps the son of Dr. Vesalius (Joseph Cotten), the head surgeon, forcing him to perform a perilous operation to save the boy’s life.

Price’s flamboyant performance elevates the film beyond mere horror. He imbues Phibes with a tragic grandeur, his eyes conveying both maniacal glee and profound sorrow. Whether he’s conducting his clockwork band of automatons or tenderly caressing his wife’s photograph, Price’s Phibes is a captivating blend of monster and romantic hero.

The film’s Grand Guignol art deco sets, dark humor, and Price’s unforgettable portrayal have earned The Abominable Dr. Phibes a well-deserved cult following. It stands as a testament to Price’s versatility as an actor and his ability to create iconic characters, even when deprived of his most famous asset – his velvet voice.

THEATER OF BLOOD 1973

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Theatre of Blood (1973) is a darkly comedic horror film directed by Douglas Hickox, starring Vincent Price as Edward Lionheart, a Shakespearean actor seeking revenge on his critics. The film combines Grand Guignol horror with a Shakespearean theme and flare.

Lionheart believed dead after a suicide attempt, systematically murders the critics who fail to recognize his genius. Each murder is based on a death scene from Shakespeare’s plays, including Julius Caesar (stabbing), Troilus and Cressida (impalement), Cymbeline (decapitation), The Merchant of Venice (heart removal) Richard III (drowning in wine.)

The film explores themes of revenge, artistic recognition, and the power of criticism. It cleverly intertwines Shakespeare’s works with modern horror elements, creating a satirical commentary on the relationship between artists and critics.

In keeping with his iconic flamboyant charm, Vincent Price delivers a tour de force performance as Lionheart, balancing melodrama and pathos. Diana Rigg plays Edwina Lionheart, Edward’s devoted daughter and accomplice who also dons elaborate makeup and costumes. The supporting cast includes notable British actors like Ian Hendry, Robert Morley, Arthur Lowe, and Price’s real-life wife, Coral Brown, as Chloe Moon as the ill-fated critics.

Hickox’s direction emphasizes the theatrical nature of Lionheart’s revenge, using location shooting and a constantly moving camera to prevent the film from becoming overly stagey. The murders are grand, often darkly humorous set pieces, once again blending horror with black comedy.

Theatre of Blood is a campy, humorous, avenging, and conceptual opera. Lionheart is considered one of Price’s film characters and a favorite of both Price and Rigg.

#7 with 143 days left to go! Your EverLovin’ Joey, formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl

MonsterGirl's 150 Days of Classic Horror! #6 At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul (1964)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

AT MIDNIGHT I’LL TAKE YOUR SOUL (1964)

Director José Mojica Marins inhabits the role of Zé do Caixão, better known as Coffin Joe, a diabolically creepy gravedigger with wicked nails like claws who sports a top hat and cloak as he terrorizes the villagers with his evil desires. Set in a small, superstitious village, the film follows the blasphemous undertaker Zé, who is obsessed with finding the “perfect woman” to bear his child and continue his bloodline, scorning religion and morality along the way.

Zé’s reign of terror includes murder, sexual violence, and relentless cruelty, all justified by his nihilistic, Nietzschean worldview.

His lover, Lenita, can not bear him a child. He begins to pursue Terezinha de Oliveira (Magda Mei), who is engaged to his friend, Antonio. Zé do Caixão murders Lenita & Antonio. He rapes Terezinha, hoping to get her pregnant, but she commits suicide instead. Comes the Day of the Dead, as he mocks the supernatural and torments the townsfolk, he is warned by the local gypsy that his deeds will come back to haunt him and the spirits of his victims will avail themselves at midnight and send him to hell! The film climaxes in a nightmarish sequence of ghostly revenge, with Zé pursued by the dead and ultimately destroyed by his own guilt and paranoia.

Zé do Caixão: “What is life? It is the beginning of death. What is death? It is the end of life! What is existence? It is the continuity of blood. What is blood? It is the reason to exist!”

At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul (1964) is a landmark in horror cinema, recognized as the first Brazilian-produced horror film and the debut of the infamous Coffin Joe (Zé do Caixão). Marins’s film is a brutal and surreal journey into a nightmarish landscape… shocking audiences with its violence, blasphemy, and transgressive themes, launching Coffin Joe as a cult icon and opening the door for a new era of Brazilian horror.

5 Down, 145 to go! – Your EverLovin’ Joey, formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl, is on a mission to keep it short!

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #4 Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein 1948

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)

Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948) is a horror-comedy that brilliantly combines the comedic talents of Bud Abbott and Lou Costello with Universal’s iconic monsters. The film follows baggage clerks Chick Young (Abbott) and Wilbur Grey (Costello) as they become entangled with Dracula, the Wolf Man, and Frankenstein’s Monster. The comedy stems from the duo’s classic dynamic: Abbott is the duo’s straight man as usual, maintaining a cool demeanor, while Lou Costello, as the funny man, is growing increasingly agitated. Their humor relies on their signature clever wordplay and witty banter, not to mention the brilliant physical comedy of Costello’s exaggerated reactions to the scary yet campy situations.

The film showcases their trademark routine of Costello witnessing frightening events, only for Abbott to miss them and dismiss Costello’s claims. This creates a humorous contrast between Costello’s terror and Abbott’s skepticism.

The Universal monsters are portrayed by their iconic actors: Bela Lugosi as the most mesmerizing of Draculas, Lon Chaney Jr. as the sympathetic Wolf Man. This time, after Boris Karloff decided to retire his beloved character, Glenn Strange takes up the mantle of Frankenstein’s Monster.

The movie successfully merges Universal’s horror and comedy franchises, using familiar horror tropes as a backdrop for Abbott and Costello’s comedic antics. It serves as both a parody and a continuation of Universal’s monster films, creating a unique blend of humor and traditional horror elements. Lenore Aubert co-stars as Dr. Sandra Mornay, a mad scientist who partners with Dracula to reactivate Frankenstein’s monster, and Jane Randolph plays Joan Raymond, a romantic interest and one of the main characters who helps unravel the mystery. Special appearance, in velvet voice only, of Vincent Price introducing himself as The Invisible Man in a hilarious twist ending!

YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN 1974

Mel Brooks’s Young Frankenstein is one of the most preciously hilarious spoofs on the Universal classics of the 1940s. It’s a masterclass in affectionate parody, a film that manages to both lampoon and lovingly resurrect the spirit of the Universal monster movies it pays tribute to. Released in 1974, the film is a riotous blend of Brooks’ signature anarchic humor and a meticulous, almost reverent recreation of the Gothic style and atmosphere of James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931) and Bride of Frankenstein (1935).

Brooks, never one for half-measures, insisted on shooting in black and white, using high-contrast lighting and even borrowing original Strickfaden lab equipment from the 1931 classic, all to ensure that every bolt of lightning and every shadowy corridor felt like it had been plucked straight from the golden age of horror.

At the heart of the film is Gene Wilder’s Dr. Frederick Frankenstein—sorry, that’s “Fronkensteen”—a man desperate to distance himself from his infamous grandfather’s legacy, only to be drawn inexorably into the same madcap quest to reanimate the dead. Wilder, who co-wrote the script with Brooks, delivers a performance that is both manic and deeply sincere, veering from wild-eyed hysteria to moments of genuine pathos. His comedic timing is impeccable, whether he’s wrestling with his own tongue-twisting name or leading the Monster in a show-stopping rendition of “Puttin’ on the Ritz.”

The supporting cast is a gallery of comic brilliance. Marty Feldman’s Igor (what hump?) is a bug-eyed, fourth-wall-breaking delight, his every line and physical tic a wink to the audience. Teri Garr’s Inga is all exuberant, wide-eyed innocence and sly innuendo, while Cloris Leachman’s Frau Blücher (cue the neighing horses) is a deadpan marvel, her every utterance dripping with Gothic menace and secret longing. Peter Boyle, as the Monster, brings a surprising tenderness to the role, his lumbering physicality offset by moments of childlike vulnerability and, in one of the film’s most famous scenes, unexpected showbiz flair. Madeline Kahn, as Frederick’s high-strung fiancée Elizabeth, is a comic force of nature, her every entrance and exit a study in escalating absurdity and sublime genius.

Brooks’s brand of humor is on full display throughout: irreverent, physical, and unafraid to mix highbrow references with lowbrow gags. He delights in wordplay, slapstick, and the kind of running jokes (the horses’ reaction to Frau Blücher’s name, the ever-shifting hump on Igor’s back), the brain in the jar that says Abnormal – (you know, Igor tells Frederick the brain he sent him to get came from Abby someone – Abby Normal) from that reward repeat viewings.

However, what sets Young Frankenstein apart from lesser parodies is its genuine affection for its source material. Brooks and Wilder don’t just poke fun at the old horror films—they inhabit their world, recreating their look, sound, and even their pacing so that the comedy feels organic rather than imposed. After all, we’re in the presence of comedic genius firing on all cylinders—improvisation so sharp it could slice through a graveyard fog!

The film’s style is a loving pastiche: Gerald Hirschfeld’s cinematography bathes the sets in the same expressionistic shadows and fog that defined the Universal classics, while the sets themselves are filled with Gothic arches, cobwebs, and flickering candlelight. The special effects, from the crackling lab equipment to the elaborate reanimation sequences, are both a send-up and a celebration of the practical magic of early horror cinema.

Young Frankenstein is more than just a collection of gags; it’s a film with real heart, exploring themes of legacy, acceptance, and the search for connection—albeit through a lens of gleeful absurdity. As Mel Brooks himself put it, he wanted to capture not just the silliness but also “the haunting, beautiful quality that James Whale got with Boris Karloff.” The result is a comedy that, fifty years on, still feels fresh, smart, and—like the Monster himself—very much alive.

#4 with 146 days left to go! Your EverLovin Joey, formally and affectionately known as MonsterGirl!

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror! #5 Asylum (1972) / Tales From the Crypt (1972)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

ASYLUM (1972)

Asylum Patrick Magee

In one of Amicus’s best offerings, directed by Roy Ward Baker, Asylum is a campy portmanteau horror anthology based on several tales by master storyteller Robert Bloch (Psycho 1960). When Dr. Martin (Robert Powell), a psychiatrist looking for employment, arrives at the asylum for the criminally insane, he doesn’t know quite what he’s stepping into. Patrick Magee plays Dr. Rutherford, who gives him the odd assignment of figuring out which one of the patients is actually a former psychiatrist gone mad. Martin is sent to talk to four separate inmates, who then relate their own bizarre personal experiences of the macabre and how they ultimately landed in the asylum. This is one of the best Amicus productions, with a slew of fantastic actors filling out the cast. It’s cheeky and eerie and most definitely a contender for some of the Hammer horror anthologies with its horrific shock value and campy dark humor. The cast includes icon Peter Cushing in ‘The Weird Taylor,‘ Britt Ekland and Charlotte Rampling in ‘Lucy Comes to Stay,’ and one of my favs, Barbara Parkins (Valley of the Dolls 1967), Richard Todd, and Sylvia Syms in ‘Frozen Fear.’ The last segment is entitled ‘Manikins of Horror’ with Herbert Lom.

TALES FROM THE CRYPT (1972)

Tales From the Crypt

Tales from the Crypt (1972) is a British horror anthology film directed by Freddie Francis and produced by Amicus Productions. A chilling portmanteau consisting of five separate segments based on short stories from EC Comics’ series “of the same name. The film opens with five strangers stumbling into a crypt during a tour, where they encounter the mysterious Crypt Keeper (Ralph Richardson). He proceeds to reveal how each of them will die.

“…And All Through the House” Stars Joan Collins as Joanne Clayton, playing a woman who murders her husband on Christmas Eve and must fend off a deranged psychotic killer dressed as Santa Claus.

“Reflection of Death” Features Ian Hendry as Carl Maitland, A man who experiences a nightmarish time loop after surviving a car crash.

“Poetic Justice” Stars Peter Cushing as Arthur Edward Grimsdyke, A kind but eccentric old man who is tormented by his cruel neighbors

“Wish You Were Here” Features Richard Greene as Ralph Jason, A variation on “The Monkey’s Paw” story, dealing with the consequences of three wishes,

and “Blind Alleys” Stars Nigel Patrick as Major William Rogers and Patrick Magee as George Carter. Residents of a home for the blind revolt against their abusive administrator.

5 Down, just 145 to go!-Your EverLovin’ Joey formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl

MonsterGirl's 150 Days of Classic Horror: #3 And Soon the Darkness (1970)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

AND SOON THE DARKNESS (1970)

A Trailer a Day Keeps the Boogeyman Away! Darkness Unleashed!

Directed by Robert Fuest (The Abominable Dr. Phibes 1971, The Devil’s Rain 1975) and written by Brian Clemens. Pamela Franklin plays Jane, and Michele Dotrice is the ill-fated Cathy, two English twenty-somethings touring around the rural French countryside. The two argue about the route and become split up; Cathy vanishes without a trace. Jane begins to search for her friend and stumbles into a world of alienation and the very real threat of a sex murderer on the loose. Who can she rely on as she desperately tries to find her disappeared girlfriend while she is being stalked by a crazed killer.

3 down, 147 to go!- Your EverLovin’ Joey, formally and affectionately known as MonsterGirl