FILM FRENZY

Twins of Evil; The House of the Devil

By Matt Brunson

Need some Halloween viewing suggestions? Here are 15 movies presently available for Amazon Prime subscribers to watch for free.

DRACULA (1931). Although they were both released in 1931, Dracula hasn’t aged quite as well as Frankenstein. For one thing, the sound era was still in its infancy, and while most of the pictures of the time adjusted accordingly, this one is hampered by some overripe performances, florid prose, and awkward pauses in conversations. Also, the movie was adapted not only from Bram Stoker’s novel but also from a popular stage play then making the rounds, and the latter’s influence is discernible in the talky (and creaky) second half. The first portion, however, is terrific and elevates the entire production: Set in Transylvania, it benefits from Bela Lugosi’s introduction as the iconic vampire, Dwight Frye’s turn as the crazed, fly-munching Renfield, director Tod Browning’s inventive touches, and the exquisite sets created by Charles D. Hall (who would also work his magic on Frankenstein). It’s when the action switches to England that the film bogs down, although Edward Van Sloan provides some lift to this stretch as the sage Dr. Van Helsing.

Movie: ★★★½

FRANKENSTEIN (1931). Hardly the letter of Mary Shelley’s novel, this screen adaptation from director James Whale (who decades later was played by Ian McKellen in 1998’s Oscar-winning Gods and Monsters) is nonetheless a rich and rewarding drama about a scientist (Colin Clive) who dares to enter God’s domain by attempting to create his own human being. But when his assistant Fritz (Dwight Frye again) steals a criminal brain instead of a well-adjusted one, the doctor finds himself with an unruly creature (Boris Karloff) on his hands. Under the ingenious makeup created and applied by studio artist Jack Pierce, Karloff is astonishing in a role that Lugosi had turned down, a decision that led to Karloff’s ascendancy and Lugosi’s decline. With his dialogue limited to a series of grunts and wails, Karloff still manages to portray the Monster as a tragic figure who doesn’t comprehend the rules of the world around him. The potent scene (removed for decades but now available in all modern prints) in which he plays with a little girl still has the power to shock, not simply because it ends badly for the trusting child but for the simple-minded creature as well.

Movie: ★★★½

THE INVISIBLE MAN (1933). After creating movie magic with Frankenstein and The Old Dark House (another Karloff vehicle), James Whale again demonstrated his proclivity for the genre with this exciting adaptation of the H.G. Wells chestnut. The incomparable Claude Rains, in the role that made him a star, plays the title curiosity, a scientist whose latest serum turns him invisible — and, in time, also transforms him into a dangerous lunatic. A grade-A production, this nevertheless contains one of my all-time favorite movie mistakes: During one sequence, we see — or rather, don’t see — as the invisible man strips down to nothing to escape his pursuers, yet as he dashes through the snow, we notice that his footprints are made by shoes, not by bare feet. Incidentally, the film’s heroine is played by a then-23-year-old Gloria Stuart, known to contemporary audiences as Old Rose in James Cameron’s Titanic (for those who were unaware, Ms. Stuart passed away two years ago, at the age of 100).

Movie: ★★★½

THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935). Horror sequels are generally dismissed — most rightly so — but The Bride of Frankenstein not only goes against the grain by being superior to Frankenstein, it’s also exquisite enough that numerous scribes consider it the finest monster movie ever made. Its pleasures are bountiful, including James Whale’s playful direction, Karloff’s repeat performance as the tortured creature, Ernest Thesiger’s delightful turn as the gin-drinking Dr. Pretorius (“To a new world of gods and monsters!”), and Elsa Lanchester’s appearances as both Mary Shelley in the movie’s prologue and the Monster’s mate in the climax. In addition, there are some pungent witticisms, a dash of stark symbolism, an overriding gothic ambience, and the justifiably famous sequence in which the Monster interacts with the blind hermit (hilariously spoofed by Peter Boyle and Gene Hackman in Mel Brooks’ 1974 Young Frankenstein).

Movie: ★★★★

CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON (1954). After countless sequels and spin-offs, Universal finally put all of its classic monsters to rest by the close of the 1940s. In the ’50s, it turned its attention to science fiction, although many of its works in that genre can easily be integrated into the horror field. One case in point is Creature From the Black Lagoon, which introduced a wholly original monster in the form of the Gill Man, an amphibious being living in the waters of the Amazon. When a scientific expedition intrudes upon his solitude, he begins killing the menfolk but finds himself strangely drawn to the group’s only woman (Julie Adams). Designed by an unfairly uncredited Milicent Patrick (under the supervision of chief makeup artist Bud Westmore), the Gill Man remains one of the most innovative monsters created for the movies. Trivia aside: Ricou Browning, who played the creature in the underwater sequences (Ben Chapman donned the costume on land), was a celebrity guest at a couple of the Charlotte-held Mad Monster Party events (2012 and 2017); he passed away in 2023, age 93.

Movie: ★★★½

CURSE OF THE FACELESS MAN (1958). “Is that the Six Million Dollar Man’s boss?” Seth Rogen’s Cal asks Steve Carell’s Andy regarding one of his action figures in The 40-Year-Old Virgin. The same question can be directed toward this uninspired variation on the mummy movie, which finds a young Richard Anderson (aka the Six Million Dollar Man’s boss Oscar Goldman) essaying the lead role. He’s Dr. Paul Mallon, part of an archaeological team that discovers a body preserved in lava at the ancient Pompeii site. The petrified man is identified as gladiator Quintillus Aurelius, and, as fate would have it, Mallon’s girlfriend (Elaine Edwards) is the reincarnation of his beloved. So the faceless man comes alive, mayhem ensues, and audiences realize that, despite its monotony, the film is still easier to take than Paul W.S. Anderson’s 2014 turkey Pompeii.

Movie: ★½

THE CRIMSON CULT (1968). Also known under the title Curse of the Crimson Altar, The Crimson Cult pairs Christopher Lee with Boris Karloff, with whom he had earlier co-starred in 1958’s Corridors of Blood. Drab Mark Eden plays the central role of Robert Manning, who journeys to a remote English village to search for his missing brother and learns of the legend surrounding a witch (Barbara Steele in greenface) who once haunted the area. Is the respected Squire Morley (Lee) responsible for the current cult-like activities invoking her spirit, or is Professor Marsh (Karloff), the local occult expert, somehow involved? Better direction would have benefitted a film that nevertheless offers modest thrills for genre devotees. Karloff adds dignity (and cheeky humor) to his last film of note — he would catch pneumonia while making this picture and subsequently only appear in four Mexican-produced cheapies before his death in 1969.

Movie: ★★½

COUNT YORGA, VAMPIRE (1970) / THE RETURN OF COUNT YORGA (1971). Placing an urbane, age-old vampire in an urban, modern setting was a popular device during the horror cycle of the 1970s, with Count Yorga, Vampire prefacing the likes of 1972’s Blacula, the same year’s Dracula A.D. 1972, 1974’s Old Dracula, and, later, 1979’s Love at First Bite. Originally envisioned as a softcore romp before that angle was nixed, Yorga proved to be a box office hit, with Robert Quarry’s suave vampire posing as a medium for Los Angeles hippies and hipsters but more interested in nibbling on the necks of young ladies. Quarry’s commanding performance and some offbeat touches make this a worthy fang flick, and its success led to the following year’s The Return of Count Yorga. The unusual setting (an orphanage) is a nice touch — and fans of Craig T. Nelson can catch him in his film debut — but too many narrative and stylistic choices echo those from the first picture, including that final twist/freeze frame.

Count Yorga, Vampire: ★★★

The Return of Count Yorga: ★★½

CRY OF THE BANSHEE (1970). Upon its original release, this British thriller was headed for an R rating stateside, at least until AIP took out the scissors and removed all nudity. Also deleted were the opening credits designed by none other than Terry Gilliam, who just the year before helped hatch Monty Python’s Flying Circus. The original, uncut version is now as readily available as the AIP edit, but either way, this ranks as a weaker Vincent Price vehicle. Arriving two years after the excellent Witchfinder General, this one also finds the actor playing a vile authority figure who delights in killing women he identifies as witches. A real sorceress (Elizabeth Bergner) prone to holding Satanic gatherings (these laughable sequences look more like stoners mounting an amateur production of Hair) curses not only the evil magistrate but his entire clan, resulting in a werewolf gnashing through much of the cast. Lacking the style and the smarts of Witchfinder General, this unpleasant outing merely vacillates between silliness and sadism.

Movie: ★★

TWINS OF EVIL (1971). Stop! Hammer time! This offering from the legendary British studio stars Peter Cushing as Gustav Weil, a 19th-century puritan who enjoys burning women at the stake, since their beauty and single status obviously mean that they must be witches. The thorn in his side is Count Karnstein (Damien Thomas), a decadent playboy whose pact with the devil eventually leads him to become a vampire. Enter Gustav’s twin nieces, virginal Maria and lusty Frieda – guess which one finds herself attracted to the Count? The final entry in the loose “Karnstein Trilogy” (following The Vampire Lovers and Lust for a Vampire), this boasts the novelty of casting real-life twins – and Playboy centerfold models – Mary and Madeleine Collinson as the dissimilar sisters. But the film offers more than just a gimmick, thanks to the shifting dynamics between the characters, the emphasis on evil at both ends of the spectrum (Cushing’s man of God is just as wicked as Thomas’ Satanist), and a shot of witchcraft into the usual vampiric proceedings.

Movie: ★★★

MADHOUSE (1974). This one finds Peter Cushing playing a secondary role to Vincent Price, who’s pretty much the whole show. Price’s Paul Toombes, a horror movie veteran best known for his series of Dr. Death pictures, has suffered a breakdown following the gruesome slaying of his fiancée, a murder many believe he himself committed. Released from an asylum after a lengthy stay, Toombes attempts to resuscitate his career with the help of his screenwriter friend (Cushing) and a sleazy TV producer (Count Yorga, Vampire’s Robert Quarry). But a fresh string of murders has him wondering whether he might indeed be slaughtering others while in an altered state. Madhouse is far more silly than suspenseful, and the identity of the killer is never once in doubt. But as a vehicle for Price — and as a behind-the-scenes peek at filmmaking — it’s worth a late-night watch. This was one of only four directorial credits for prolific editor Jim Clark, who would later win a Best Film Editing Academy Award for 1984’s The Killing Fields.

Movie: ★★½

PHANTASM (1979). Yes, the flying sphere — the one with the nasty habit of drilling into people’s heads and draining them of blood and brain matter — is a nifty creation. Yes, The Tall Man (Angus Scrimm) makes for a decent horror film icon, especially when he turns “boy” into a six-syllable word (“Booooooy!”). And yes, there’s something to be said for a movie that starts as a typical slasher flick and ends up involving hooded dwarfs (they look like Jawas) forced to work as slaves in another dimension. But here’s one cult classic that’s always left me cold, largely due to writer-director Don Coscarelli’s flagrantly unimaginative staging and, aside from The Tall Man, a cast of characters every bit as dull as those found in a typical Friday the 13th sequel. This was a hit on the midnight movie circuit, but give me Romero or Raimi any day. Phantasm was followed over the ensuing 37 years by four sequels, all written by Coscarelli and all but the last directed by him.

Movie: ★★

FROM A WHISPER TO A SCREAM (1987). The wraparound segments in this horror anthology film are particularly worthless, as a historian (Vincent Price, later expressing regret at making the picture) relates four gruesome tales to a reporter (Susan Tyrrell) to demonstrate that his hometown of Oldfield, Tennessee, is a breeding ground for evil. The film’s original title, The Offspring, refers to the first vignette, in which a middle-aged nerd (Clu Gulager), living with his demanding sister (Miriam Byrd-Nethery, Gulager’s real-life wife), resorts to murder and necrophilia after he’s spurned by a younger co-worker (Megan McFarland). This so-so entry is followed by the best story, in which a two-bit loser (Terry Kiser), wounded and on the run, winds up in the care of an elderly man (Harry Caesar) living alone in the swamps. The third episode, about a carnival matron (Rosalind Cash) with a mysterious hold over her employees, begins promisingly but runs out of steam and ends on a limp note. Better is the fourth and final tale, which recalls The Beguiled with its Civil War-era plot about a group of savage Union soldiers who end up at a farmhouse occupied solely by children.

Movie: ★★

THE HOUSE OF THE DEVIL (2009). This wildly acclaimed effort from writer-director Ti West has been repeatedly referred to as a throwback to the horror films of the 1980s, a designation that doesn’t strike me as entirely accurate. Rather, West’s unsettling yarn about a college student (Jocelin Donahue) running afoul of a Satanic cult seems to borrow from several decades, given its mishmash of ’60s Hammer atmosphere, ’70s under-the-nails grit, ’80s rollicking soundtrack (from Jeff Grace’s John Carpenter-esque score to period songs by The Fixx, The Greg Kihn Band, and Thomas Dolby), and modern-day mumblecore. It’s an impressive piece, with West maintaining a firm grip on the material until a harried and hurried ending that’s not entirely satisfying. But no matter: By turning his back on the torture-porn techniques prevalent in many contemporary tales, West was branded by many as one of the saviors of the often maligned horror genre and has since treated us to such winners as The Innkeepers, X, and Pearl.

Movie: ★★★