Text © Robert Barry Francos / Indie Horror
Films, 2018
Images from the Internet
Flesh & Blood: The Hammer
Heritage of Horror
Written and directed by Ted Newsom
Narrated by Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee
S’more Entertainment / Bosustow Media Group /
Hammer Films / Act 3 – Heidelberg Films / MVD Entertainment
100
minutes, 1994 / 2015 / 2018
Before I started watching this update of a reissued 1994 British documentary
television show about arguably one of the three most important horror film
companies in the 20th Century – the other two being Universal
Pictures and American International Pictures (AIP) – I tried to think back to
the first Hammer Film Production I can remember seeing in the theater. It could
have been She, The Nanny (which began
my crush on Pamela Franklin for a couple of decades), Die! Die! My Darling!, or One
Million Years BC (all released in 1965). However, I have a vague memory of
seeing The Creeping Unknown as a
second-bill feature years after its original release as Quatermass Xperiment (1955), probably as a back-up for one of the
AIP Poe releases with Vincent Price; they helped cement my love of the genre
through the decades. Since then, I saw so many of their films and franchises, Dracula
and Frankenstein, especially.
It makes good sense that the narrators of this documentary are the
biggest stars Hammer helped introduce to Western cinema: Christopher Lee (d.
2015) who was best known as Dracula in Hammer Films, and the man with the
world’s greatest cheekbones, Peter Cushing (1994, soon after this was released;
I was a member of his British Fan Club), who reimagined by Dr. Frankenstein and
Van Helsing. It should be noted that Cushing’s career dates back to appearing
in the Laurel and Hardy feature, Chumps
at Oxford.
Wisely, it starts off right at the beginning, with how the name Hammer
originated (which I did not know, or perhaps did not remember), into its
formation as a viable force during the post-World War II period, and how they
attained their admirable talent, such as director Freddie Francis.
There is a nice compendium of archival footage and early ‘90s modern interviews, so many of the stars
of the early releases, as well as the classic ones, such as Francis (d. 2007),
Hazel Court (d. 2008; one of the few to be in both Hammer and AIP films), Ingrid
Pitt (d. 2010) and Veronica Carlson are present for first-hand accounts. We see
original footage and modern interviews of both actors and crew. Also enjoyable
are interviews with some American directors, and how they were influenced by
the Hammer collection, such as Joe Dante, John Carpenter, and Martin Scorsese.
A point they make here but don’t dwell on (consider the name of the
documentary, after all), is that early on there was hardly a genre that Hammer
didn’t tackle, including swashbuckling, crime dramas, and science fiction. It
was the Quatermass mash-up of sci-fi and horror that got them noticed to an
Ameican audience, which is where the larger money was, and from there it was
the revitalization and reboots of the classic Universal monsters where the
studio became financially sound. Peter Cushing says at one point, paraphrasing
the name of one of his films, “Frankenstein Created Hammer.”
Rather than follow the releases merely chronologically, wisely break the
film up into “groups.” For example, there is a whole segment that just focuses
on the Frankenstein films, some more successful in quality than others, in my
opinion, and thankfully everyone looks at it both nostalgically and with a
sense of whimsy, including David Prowse (he would go on to play Darth Vader in
the original three Star Wars films)
and Cushing himself, who comments at some point that his hair in a later film
looked like Helen Hayes. Needless to say, this is an exciting part of the film
for me.
After Frankie-Baby, there’s “The Count Also Rises,” discussing, well…
Dracula (are you surprised? If you are, you need to see this and learn your
horror history, Jack… or Jill). Actually, I do agree and disagree on a point
they make in this segment. They comment that what makes Lee’s Dracula so
special is the level of sexuality he brings to the character. Well, yes,
onscreen he definitely made some in the audience swoon (both female and male, from those I’ve talked to),
but to imply that Lugosi’s Big-D wasn’t sexy is just wrong. Lugosi was a major
sex symbol in the 1930s and ‘40s (pre-drug addiction), and while there was no
blatant sexuality on screen as there was with Lee (e.g., a woman lying in bed
pulling down her neckline to be bitten), Lugosi’s portrayal just burned with
sensuality, using his voice – as is true with Lee’s baritone – and eyes,
specifically. Can I get an Amen?
Younger people may think of Lee as Saruman, but for those “kids” of my
g-g-generation, Lee is Dracula and Dracula is Lee; and I say this with the
utmost respect and admiration. When he plays other roles, such as Lord
Summerisle in the wickedly great The
Wicker Man (1973; not the Nic Cage travesty remake), it’s easy to accept.
But when Lee’s name is mentioned, it’s his cape and red eyes that come to mind.
The Dracula-based series was also extremely popular for the company, though Lee
pulled the plug on himself continuing the role after the cartoonish and garish Dracula AD 1972 (1972) and The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973). He
explains why here, which is good to hear dripping from his lips directly.
The second half of the documentary is a bit more esoteric, covering many
bases. For example, there is a look at a few films that did not make money,
such as the sensationalist courtroom drama Never
Take Candy From Strangers (1960) and the sci-fi thriller The Damned (1963) to how Hammer had one
of the first full-time female producers with Aida Young (though Freddie Francis
sorta poo-poos her role). On more a more technical side there is discussion
about how Hammer used exceptional crews and eventually had their own look (they
definitely did), and how they managed to score major talent, such as Oliver
Reed, from both the UK and the US.
Adaptations of classics (e.g., Phantom
of the Opera in 1962 and The Devil
Rides Out in 1968) are discussed, including an interview with my personal
favorite horror writer, Richard Matheson (d. 2013).
Now, Hammer kinda hit its stride, especially with me, in the late 1960s and
in the early ‘70s, and I have no doubt looking back that part of it had do so
with what is covered in a chapter here called “Hammer Glamour.” The stars were
good looking; there were bountiful cleavage, and a strong sense of both horror
sexuality and sensuality. Films like Dr.
Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971), Lust
for a Vampire (1971) and Twins of
Evil (1971) were fine examples of what fed a teenage boy the equivalent of
what many superhero films do now with the same formula using Harley Quinn
(Margot Robbie), Black Widow (Scarlett Johannson) and Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot).
Wisely, this film looks at both the good (marketing) and bad (sexism/gender
politics, as well as the overuse of the theme of sexy lesbian vampires*) of
this aspect, though because it was filmed in the early ‘90s, perhaps not as
deeply as it might since the emergence of the #metoo current history.
This logically leads into the prehistoric releases that seemed to begin
with One Million Years BC, including
interviews with its two major stars, Raquel Welch and the underrated Martine
Beswick; the latter would go on to other dinosaur-and-human releases that
seemed to come out quite often, and were often over-acted and over-melodramatic
in joyful exuberance. There are also a couple of brief interviews with the man
who designed many of them, the king of pixilation himself, Ray Harryhausen (d.
2013).
This was actually getting close to the end of the Hammer phenomenon,
with their the horrible but (unintentionally) hilarious last horror film To the Devil and Daughter in 1975, and
the 1979 horrible and not hilarious (unintentionally) comedy The Lady Vanishes. But thanks to
extended footage added to this new version of the documentary, we are told of
its somewhat limited revival in 2008, with the likes of Let Me In (2010) and The Woman
in Black (2012).
This is a fun and informative way to spend a couple of hours of horror
film history, and with the 40 minutes of added footage, all the more bettah. It’s well thought out,
extensive in its clips and interviews, and pretty thorough.
I do need to add a comment, however, about something I felt was left out. In the late 1960s and through
the ‘70s, Hammer wisely chose to go into the home distribution market, well
before the advent of VHS. It was common to see 8mm and Super 8mm short versions
of Hammer Films in 50’ (4 minutes) and 200’ (15 minutes) versions, both with
sound and silent. I still have a batch of the silent ones somewhere, though no
projector anymore. This was some solid marketing.
* It should be noted that one of the very first horror stories ever
published in modern history, even before Dracula,
was the 1871 Joseph Le Fanu novella, Carmella,
about a lesbian vampire.
